The Ballad of Hot Shot and L
by DeepLittleSOB
Summary: "I chose very carefully," Castiel tells them. "Chose what?" Dean asks, eyes narrowed on the angel. "With all the different paths you both could have had… I refuse to believe that after several years of hard contemplation that I got it so wrong. Perhaps you should see it," Cass brightens with his idea. "See what?" Lizzy asks. "You will thank me later," he answers. Part 20 of series.
1. He's Awake

**This is the 20th story in my series. It is meant to be a love letter to my readers. You have all been so faithful and wonderful to me. I can't thank you enough for the support. This is for all of you.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have the rights to anything of the Supernatural universe. I am just playing in their sandbox.**

* * *

Walking into the hospital room, Lizzy takes a look at Cass' still, silent form for the thousandth time. She's getting used to this, his status being what it is. It's not something she's happy with but at least for once she can always know where he is at all times. Bonus, right?

"Evening, Cassie," Lizzy says to him, the only nurse in the building to know his actual name. "Brought you something." She places the mini Christmas tree on the small bedside table next to him, it decorated with little tinsel strands and tiny ornaments, a bright yellow star on the top. "Not exactly sure where you stand on the whole Christmas thing, honestly… but I figured what the hell. Maybe you liked Jesus and wanted to say happy birthday. I don't know." She huffs a laugh when she imagines the world, several hundreds of years later, celebrating a February Christmas in honor of her own son's birthday as he's also a coming of God on earth.

The thought then quickly makes her stomach churn and she shoves it completely away.

"So, what'll it be today?" she asks, hearing the rumble of thunder far off in the distance. "Same old same old? Being the strong silent type?"

Lizzy putters around the room, checking his vitals and recording them, nothing having changed. She needs to swap out his bed linen today to prevent the bed sores he will never get. It's shocking that not one single coworker has noticed the fact that Castiel's hair never gets dirty, his stomach never rumbles with hunger, and he never has a change in health despite his comatose state.

"Alright, dude. You're boring," Lizzy comments, finishing her notes in his chart. She then places it in the wall file holder and looks at him. She's tired of the waiting. It makes her anxious that he'll remain this way forever. What happens when he never ages? Never dies? What will the staff do then?

She sits down on the edge of his bed and picks up his hand, a thunder clap loudly crashing much closer this time. Glancing out the window and seeing no rain, she shrugs it off.

"Cassie, I need you to wake up, man," Lizzy says to him, grabbing his lifeless hand. "You gotta give me something here. I'm worried about you."

Once again, nothing in response.

"Plus, it'd be good to have you back right now," she tells him. "I could use more friends." She grins sadly and pats the back of his hand. She then replaces it onto the comforter and gets up. She starts packing up and prepares to leave for a bit to finish her duties so that later she can come back to sit with him silently just like every day.

With a giant, brilliant flash of lightning, a massive boom of thunder rumbles through the entire building. She jumps a foot as her eyes snap to the window. The entire building goes dark when the power cuts out. "What the fuck was that?" she asks herself before hearing the springs in the old, crappy hospital bed creak sharply.

When she turns to look she sees Castiel, bright blue eyes wide open as he sits up straight in his bed, wide awake.

"Cass!?" she says loudly, rushing to his side. "Cassie!?"

He keeps staring at the wall ahead of him, eyes big and odd.

"Talk to me!" Lizzy starts to panic with the crazy way he's acting.

He doesn't move a muscle, just stares.

"Castiel, you say something to me right now!" Lizzy demands, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her.

"Something happened," his voice rasps out with certainty.

"What?" she questions with concern.

After blinking a few times their eyes meet solidly, the angel showing just the slightest moment of recognition before he very strangely smiles. "Hello, Elizabeth."

* * *

"Lizzy?" Sam asks as he answers his phone, surprised to be getting a call from her this early in the morning. "What's up?"

"He's awake."

Sam pauses for just a split second with the sudden news. "What… _Cass_ is awake?"

Dean sharply looks to his brother in the passenger seat of the car. "When?"

Sam holds up an index finger and puts the phone on speaker.

Once more, Dean asks, "When?"

"Last night about eight," Lizzy answers. "It was during some freak thunderstorm. There was a huge clap of thunder, the place lost power, and the next thing I know Cass is sitting up in bed wide awake."

"And you waited till _now_ to call us?" Dean wonders with surprise, having thought she wouldn't wait all night to let them know.

Lizzy huffs a disbelieving laugh over his questioning her. "I've been busy with Cass."

"Busy?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, _really_ busy," she tells them. "He's… a little different than we remember him."

"What do you mean, different?" Dean keeps plying her.

"Well, considering I'm not a nurse and I'm just playing one on TV, I can only guess that mentally he's been completely affected by the Cage memories. He's just… he's not like the old, ridged, stuffy dude he used to be. I think Luci might have broken his brain a bit."

"Understandable," Sam comments, completely getting it.

"He's been a handful and I've been put on his watch twenty-four seven. Lou's bringing Sammy in later so I can actually see him today," Lizzy says and sighs with exhaustion. "I haven't had a chance to really talk to Cass about everything but I was gonna wait for you guys to get here if you can. Dean… I think the two of us should sit him down. Pretty sure it's gonna take more than just me to get through to him."

"He's that bad?" Dean shocks.

"Just start driving if you can," Lizzy asks. "I need help with him and I can't really explain it. You have to see it for yourself."

"We're on our way," Sam promises. "Just… watch him."

"It's what I get paid for," Lizzy flatly jokes. "How long you think?"

"Be there tonight."

"Ok, good. Be safe," Lizzy says and hangs up, Sam pocketing his phone.

"Great. So, nut house?" Dean assumes already.

"Yeah," Sam nods while he responds.

"Eight o'clock last night. Thunderstorm." Dean brings up the odd timing while turning on his turn signal to start his way back west instead of east.

"Yeah. Same time we opened up that thing," Sam nudges his head to the back seat where the stone with ancient writing sits in a duffle. "Coincidence, right?" he sarcastically asks.

"Isn't it always," Dean replies dryly. "At least the guy is back in the waking world though."

"Yeah," Sam says with conflict, not sure how he's supposed to feel about the angel in the moment after everything that's happened. Sure, Cass saved him from death due to mental taxation… but he'd never have been attacked by his Cage memories if Cass didn't take down his wall in the first place.

He's weary at best.

* * *

"Cass, stop it," Lizzy says in a stern yet not too angry voice as she watches Castiel turn the miniature Christmas tree in his hands, ornaments and tinsel dislodging from the branches and falling to the floor.

"I never understood this custom," he says with narrow eyes examining the item. "Why would people celebrate the coming of my Father on Earth with a dying tree covered in bright objects?"

"It's actually just a bunch of Pagan traditions," Lizzy starts to tell him as she rushes over and pulls the tree from his grips. "The Christian church pretty much stole the winter solstice celebrations and turned them into a way to say happy birthday Jesus."

"Jesus was not born in December," Castiel comments, his serious face looking right at her. "I remember that clearly…."

"And we humans just screw everything right on up, don't we," she jokes and places the tree on the nightstand. "Cass, dude, could you just sit down for a minute, please? You're wearing me the hell out." He really is. Ever since he woke up he's been running around the hospital looking at everything and being oddly childlike in his demeanor. She's exhausted.

"Can we go outside?" Castiel asks her, walking to the window. He looks out over the big lawn. "Everything is green out there. I like green better than white. It's a more forgiving color, don't you think?"

When he looks to her for an answer, his eyes are so innocent and filled with wonder she doesn't really know how to respond. In a way he's reverted to a younger being, the thousands year old angel suddenly nothing but a curious little boy rediscovering the world he's observed for centuries.

"I do," she agrees with a warm smile. With everything Castiel has done for her maybe this is what he needs right now. Care. Patience. Love that he's never been shown before when his state is fragile. "But for now we need to stay inside."

"Why?"

"I want to keep you safe until you're a little more with it," she gently tells him, walking to stand next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Safe? From what?" he asks, his forehead wrinkled and head cocked to the side.

"Everything," she laughs. "But right now? Mostly demons."

"No," he instantly shakes his head and backs away from her. "No, I don't fight."

"Excuse me?" she laughs lightly. "Since when?"

"I _don't_ do that anymore," Castiel says as he steps back away from her, his voice going old school Cass with his determination. "I will not fight."

"No one's asking you to," she promises gently, walking right back up to him with her hands out. "I don't want you to fight anyone… or anything."

"Good. Because I do not like conflict."

"Who does?" she smiles, understanding him. "Now, can you sit down for just a few minutes and talk to me? Please?"

Castiel's face softens right back up. "For you, Elizabeth? I would be happy to."

With a flap of some invisible wings, Castiel disappears from sight.

"Damn it!" Lizzy complains, running out into the hallway to go find him.

"Cass, you can't just run out on me like that," Lizzy complains as she takes a seat across from the angel in the cafeteria after she finally finds him, twenty-minutes of her life now gone with searching.

"I don't like any of this," Castiel tells her, his mouth full of tapioca pudding. He pushes the multiple food items opened and barely eaten towards her and away from him with a disgusted face. "It tastes… complex."

"And I'm guessing that's bad?" she smiles at him.

"Very bad."

"That's because it's hospital food. No one likes it," Lizzy laughs as she gathers everything on a tray to clean up his mess.

"Maybe it's because I'm an angel that it tastes so terrible," he says thoughtfully, looking off around the room and taking in very detail he can of every mundane thing about the room.

"You know that for sure? That you're an angel?" she asks, not having been able to get a true read on him just yet. He doesn't seem to remember much and if he does then he's playing it all off beautifully.

"I'm certain of it," he responds.

"That's good." She smiles at him kindly. "Because you're right. And angels don't need to eat so I guess food doesn't really need to taste good, does it?"

"No, I suppose not," he says with disappointment. "It is a shame though."

"Is it?"

"Dean always seemed to enjoy food quite immensely," he says, looking at her with honesty. "I wanted to understand that enjoyment."

"You remember Dean?" she breathes out with relief.

"Of course." He voice saddens at that.

"Would you like to see him?" Lizzy wonders.

Castiel looks around the room again, this time nervously with the idea. "That all depends."

"On?"

"If he's still mad at me," Castiel says to her. "I do not like conflict."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Lizzy comments, pushing the filled tray of barely eaten food to the side. "But if I promise he's not mad and he isn't going to fight with you?"

Considering the idea, Castiel sits for a moment within his own head. "Are you familiar with the story of Judas Iscariot?"

Lizzy just blinks a few times, letting her brain catch up with his erratic train of thought, and she takes it in stride. "Judas… the disciple?"

"Yes."

"Then yeah, I am," Lizzy says with confidence. She read, reread, and re-reread every story of Jesus Christ several times over at this point in preparation for Sammy's looming future.

"Many prophets and apostles believed that he was just betraying Jesus for money, that he was greedy," Castiel explains, looking right at her unwaveringly for the first time since he awoke. His eyes have been shifty with wonder but right now he seems focused and like he trusts her fully. "That was not the case."

"What was the case then?" Lizzy wonders.

"He was a good friend to Jesus," Castiel says with a smile. "I used to observe them together. They liked to walk alone and speak of how to help the people around them, the people of my Father. They were always so honest with each other, like their friendship was something special… something that others couldn't quite understand. They had a trust there, one that developed quickly as they over and over proved to each other they did in fact love one another like brothers. Real brothers. Jesus considered Judas his kin. I really believe that."

Keeping quiet to let him continue uninterrupted, Lizzy starts to see where this was going.

"So, you see, it would take a whole lot more than money to make Judas do something as terrible as betray Jesus and hand him to the Romans the way he did. He was not a trivial man."

"Why'd he do it then?"

Castiel narrows his eyes at her. He sighs. "Some say it was not under his free will that he did it, that it was prophesized so therefore it played out as so. However, you and I know that free will is stronger than that."

"Yes we do," she smiles at him, loving seeing her friend again and hearing him speak like this. She knew he was one of the good ones, even after everything.

"My Father believes in the free will of humanity to an extent. It's one of the reasons he's always loved you all more than my brothers and sisters… more than me."

He looks sad with that and Lizzy reaches across the table, taking his hand in hers. He looks at her oddly with the loving gesture but doesn't pull his hand back.

"I can say that he was right, however," Castiel mentions. "Humans, like you, Elizabeth… you are much better then angels. You care, you show remorse for wrongdoings and… you love. Real love. It's beautiful. It's one of the truly beautiful things in this world, like sunlight. And the workings of honey bees."

She smiles at him, seeing that childlike innocence she always knew was in her angel come shining through with his new mental state. "I like that. But you didn't answer my question."

"Then you must repeat it for me."

"Why did Judas betray his friend?"

"Simply because he didn't see how he had any other choice," Castiel explains. "He saw what Jesus was doing to the Roman rule, making it concerned and agitated with his crusade of sorts, and feared the fall out would be disastrous to the good, innocent people all around him. He gave Jesus up to save the lives of hundreds, of thousands, that would have gotten caught in the crossfire of Jesus' believers and all the other Roman citizens. It could have resulted in large scale violence and bloodshed… and Judas couldn't sit by and watch it happen. One man's life for that of who knows how many others? A good man knows that is not right."

Lizzy just grins as she knows a couple of men that would agree with that sentiment.

"Judas struggled," Castiel continues on. "He lived in turmoil over this decision and yet, in the end, he made it on his own will. He did what he saw as the only right way and it ruined him. It haunted him every second and he died soon after at his own hand when he couldn't take it. He was simply hating himself for betraying his beloved friend."

Gripping tightly to his hand, Lizzy asks him, "Cass? Do you see yourself as Judas in this example? Do you think you betrayed your friends for the greater good too?"

Once more, Castiel's eyes dart away as he takes his hand back from her. He gets uncomfortable and silences himself.

"It's ok. I mean, I get it if you do…."

"Would you like to play Monopoly?" he questions her, stopping the conversation where it was. "I have never had the chance to play it. It seems fun."

Lizzy sighs and huffs a laugh. "Sure. If that's what you want to do."

"I would like that."

"Can we just wait until…?" She gives up when the flap of wings happens again. He left the room. "…Sammy and Lou get here. Guess not."

* * *

"Children are a wonder, are they not?" Castiel proclaims as he sits on the floor, Sammy playing around the blanket spread out for him in the angel's hospital room. He's been fascinated by the little boy as he's gone about playing, crawling, and putting everything he can in his mouth. Castiel lies on his stomach and gets eye to eye with Sammy as he's crawling towards him on all fours. "Everything is so new to them, so wondrous. Wouldn't it be great to go back, erase all we know, and relearn it all like children?"

"Wow," Lou comments with wide eyes as she stands in the corner, leaning her back into the walls there with arms crossed over her chest. She's stayed away so far, unsure of the angel. All she's personally seen has put her on edge with being in his presence, even despite how odd and harmless he's acting.

Lizzy gives her a look that says to keep quiet and play nice.

"Now, Samuel, do you also like the color green?" Castiel asks the boy. He keeps doing that, asking the boy that cannot speak questions. "I feel it is the best of the colors I have seen and, at this point, I believe I've seen them all." Castiel holds out a green wooden block to Sammy.

The little boy stops crawling, sits down, and takes the block offered. He pops the corner of it into his mouth.

Cass smiles and looks to Lizzy. "He agrees with me."

"You're probably right," Lizzy laughs, going with it. She then checks her phone, the time ticking away. Dean and Sam will arrive any moment.

Suddenly, Castiel sits up tall and looks at Lizzy funny. "You're nervous. Why are you nervous?"

With surprise, Lizzy just looks at him. "I'm not nervous."

"You lie," Castiel accuses, scooting across the floor to where she sits on the other side of the blanket. He presses his palm to her forehead unceremoniously, the slap he makes heard loudly in the sparse room. "Your heart rate is high. I can feel the tension. And you're sweating." When he takes his hand back he takes one look at it and then wipes it on his trench coat. "What's wrong?"

"Cassie, you don't need to be so worried about me," she grins at him warmly.

"You are concerned with me so I am concerned with you," he turns it right around. "And it is my job. It has always been my job so… please. I want to help."

"That is very sweet of you," Lizzy assures, patting his shoulder. "You've always been good to me, Cass. But right now I want you to focus on you."

"I feel you're worried about… Dean arriving?" Castiel thinks aloud and when he finds his conclusion he's very confused. "Well, that cannot be right…."

"Hey!" the male voice on an orderly is heard shouting in the hallway. Lizzy stands up immediately, knowing what's happening, and runs to the hallway. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but it's way past visiting hours!"

"It's okay, Felix!" Lizzy yells down the hall and when she pops her head out there she can see Dean and Sam looking at her as they're stopped by the coworker. "I've been expecting them."

"Oh, uh… ok, I guess," Felix says with confusion as the tall men walk right past him.

"I ok-ed it with Kadinsky," she grins calmly and Felix just nods, leaving them be. "Hi," Lizzy greets them, her weird and uncomfortable ways returning the second she's in Dean's presence.

"So he's up and talking?" Dean questions, remaining completely business like for his own benefit.

"The whole nine," Lizzy says. "But he's very different than you remember so go easy on him."

"Easy?" Sam asks with slight astonishment at her.

"Trust me," she asks of them. "I know you're still pissed…."

"He broke Sam!" Dean harshly whispers.

"And then fixed him and took it all on himself," Lizzy quietly reminds. "He feels bad, he's sorry… and he's fragile."

"Fragile my ass," Dean comments with fire and walks right past her, ignoring Lizzy's heavy sigh of worry as he does.

When he stands in the doorway he sees Castiel, the angel that was once a big ally in his very small circle of trust, the one that betrayed him worse than anyone ever has, sitting on the floor with Sammy in his lap, handing him colored wooden blocks from the blanket.

"Hey, Cass."

The angel's posture goes ridged instantly. He looks over to see the Winchesters in the doorway, clearly worried to just come in the room. He stands up, bringing Sammy with him. He holds the boy easily on one arm. "Hello, Dean. Sam." He nods to them both.

"Hey, Castiel," Sam adds in, nervous as all hell about how this is supposed to go.

"Look at you, walkin' and talkin'," Dean mentions, his own awkward nervousness clear. "That's… that's great, right?"

Not responding, Castiel walks for Dean, giving him one very serious, hard stare the entire way. When he makes it to his old friend, standing tall with Sammy still in his hold and sitting on his hip, he extends his hand with his index finger pointed Dean's way.

"Pull my finger."

Dean and Sam are frozen, bugged out eyes on the angel. Glancing at Lizzy, she just smiles at Dean as she's already had the twenty-four hour jump start on adjusting.

"What?" Dean asks with huge confusion.

"My finger…" Castiel repeats. "Pull it."

Cautiously, Dean reaches out and does as he's asked. He pulls on Castiel's finger and every light in the hospital room shatters instantly, putting the room in darkness.

Castiel looks at Dean with a grin. And he laughs.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asks Castiel just as Sammy starts to cry with the scary moment.

"It was a joke," Castiel says seriously, pressing one finger to Sammy's forehead. The boy instantly stops crying and is happy once more, as if nothing happened. "You will need to be much braver than that in the future."

"He's just a baby, Cass," Dean says with annoyance, pulling his son out of the angel's hold. "Hey, dude," he smiles wide at his boy when he's got him, kissing his cheek. "You ok?"

"He's great," Lizzy answers, standing next to Cass and putting her hand on his shoulder to show everything really is kosher. "And Cass has been excellent with Sammy."

"I'm sure he has," Dean says with suspicion in his tone.

"Cass, can we talk?" Sam questions, also with suspicious wonder running through him. This all seems so odd.

"Absolutely, Sam," Castiel answers while relaxing, feeling so relieved that the man clearly must not hate him as much as he should if he wants to talk. "What would you like to talk about? I'm currently very preoccupied by the thought of color and how each one can convey an emotion. How do you feel about the color green?"

Sam doesn't respond. He can't. He has no fucking idea what the hell Castiel is talking about.

When he gets no answer, the angel tries again. "Are you more of a blue kind of guy?"

"Oh…kay…." Sam says with shock. "Cass, why don't we sit down, huh?"

* * *

"Okay, just hang on, Cass," Dean asks, sitting on the hospital bed with Sammy in his lap, helping himself to some of the peeled and sliced apples Lou brought with her that he's 'giving Sammy for snack'. "Wait. Let us catch up to you for a second."

"So, you're saying you remember who you are, what you are," Sam sums it up, standing on one side of the big window in the room, Castiel on the other as his eyes remain trained outside on the lawn below.

"Yes, of course," Castiel answers, his voice as far away as his brain. He gets excited thinking about the trip outside he took with Lizzy earlier once she made sure the space was clear of threats. "Oh, outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add."

"You might want to add a little Thorazine," Sam remarks to Lizzy as she stands between Dean and Castiel, always by Cass' side during this weird transitional time as she's very worried about him.

"He's fine," Lizzy says with a look that says not to say such things to the fragile angel right now. "And you can watch it, Sam-I-Am."

He looks at her funny. "You taking sides?" he jokes.

"Just saying, I'm not above kicking your ass again if you're mean," she smirks. She misses her brother-in-law.

"Will you look at her?" Castiel awes while turning around to look at Lizzy. "My caretaker. My Elizabeth. She's caring yet tough. And she's hiding so much pain right now. So beautiful."

"Ooook," Lizzy says, patting Castiel's back and glancing at Dean out of the corner of her eyes.

"What pain?" Dean asks, jumping in right away when he mentions something wrong with Lizzy.

"Heartbreak," Castiel answers. "She won't tell me what it's about but I can sense it. We _are_ still connected after all."

"You didn't tell him," Dean says to her, understanding everything right away. Lizzy shakes her head now.

"Tell me what?" Castiel asks.

"Okay," Sam cuts in, keeping the childlike Castiel on track. "So, Cass, you said you woke up last night?"

"Yes. I heard a _ping_ that pierced me, and, well, you wouldn't have heard it unless you were an angel at the time."

"Well, that's also when we opened this," Sam says, opening a duffle bag and pulling out the stone tablet they recovered from Dick's transport the night before.

"The hell is that?" Lou questions, looking from by his side as he hands the stone over.

"Hopefully we're about to find out," Sam responds.

"Oh, of course," Castiel says with recognition as he inspects the item. "Now I understand."

"Understand what?" Sam asks.

"You were the ones. Well... I guess that makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Dean questions with waning patience.

"If someone was going to free the Word from the vault of the Earth, it would end up being you two," Cass huffs with fondness. "Oh, I love you guys."

Castiel walks to Sam and gives him a big hug, one that Sam doesn't know how to respond to. His arms hang at his sides the whole time as he looks at Lizzy for help. Of course she doesn't and instead smirks at him.

Sam grins oddly and pats Castiel on the back a couple times and the angel backs off. He then heads for Dean but Dean holds a hand out in front of him, pressing into his chest to keep him away.

"Okay. Alright," Dean stops him. "Okay. Let's get back to this Word stuff."

Castiel looks hurt.

"I'm holding Sammy," Dean excuses. Castiel still stays put with his long, disappointed face. "Look, I love ya too, buddy, but we have work to get to. That's all."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam moves things along once more. "You… you said something about The Word. Is that what's written on there?"

Sharply turning to Sam, Castiel's mind veers yet again. "Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft? I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that."

"Cass," Lizzy says with a very light and nonthreatening tone, grasping lightly to Dean's arm to keep him calm when she saw his patience wear a little too thin. "You _gotta_ focus. I know you love those little tidbits of really random trivia right now…."

"Dogs only sweat through their feet. It's why their paws have a distinct smell. Actually, I find that it's a lot like corn chips…."

"Cass, please," Dean cuts in, standing up and perching Sammy on his hip. "We're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help. Can you not see that?"

With a pause, Castiel gives in. He looks over the stone again. "This is the handwriting of Metatron."

"Metatron!?" Sam asks with utter shock. "You saying a Transformer wrote that?"

Lou immediately smacks him on the arm for his stupidity. "Megatron, dummy."

"What!?" Sam looks at her confused.

"The Transformer's name is Megatron."

Sam stares her down for a split second. "What?"

"You're lucky you're cute," she tells him jokingly while shaking her head. He must be running on empty.

"Metatron. He's an angel," Castiel explains to him. "He's the scribe of God. He took down dictation when creation was being formed."

"And that's the Word of God?" Dean asks, pointing to the stone.

"One of them, yes."

"Uh... well, what's it say then?" Sam asks when he sees hope.

"Uh... tree," Castiel says, looking up and scanning the people in the room. "Horse? Fiddler crab? I can't read it. It wasn't meant for angels."

"What the hell are you two idiots doing with the Word of God!?" Lizzy asks, the panic rising quickly when she realizes how big this item really is.

"We got it from a dick," Dean comments.

"A dick… or _the_ Dick?" Lizzy asks, getting a feeling.

"We intercepted it," Sam vaguely explains and Lizzy gets upset.

"The fuck are you doing hanging around Leviathans!?" she looks at Dean solely. "Do you have a death wish!?" Seriously!?"

"Oh, you suddenly care again?" Dean asks, getting upset that she'd challenge him right now.

"I care about the father of my son, yes," she snaps right back, their old ways of falling into arguments coming back all too easily, especially now that it's been declared over between them and Dean doesn't have to try anymore.

"Lizzy, I swear, you need to get off it," Dean tells her sternly. "I'm doing my job."

She closes her eyes and sighs heavily, containing her upset.

"You're fighting," Castiel says when he sees the tension, panic rising in him. "Why are you two fighting?"

Both go silent with the question at first until Dean speaks first. "I'm not telling him."

"Figures," Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"What does that mean?" Dean asks, bouncing Sammy in his hold for a moment.

"It means I'm always the bad guy and… it's tiring."

"Well, you _are_ the one that gave up," Dean throws in her face and Cass' expression shows his recognition.

"No," Castiel shakes his head.

"Oh, Cass," Lizzy says with sadness, focusing on him when he figures it out. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before Dean got here."

"You two are… I don't understand how this could have happened," Castiel says to her.

"It was… it's complicated," Lizzy says to him.

"No it isn't," Dean says to her and turns to Cass. "Our lives suck ass. It was too much for us to handle. We didn't work out. L ended it. That's it."

"It was more than that," Lizzy says, not liking this cold version of it.

"Not really," Dean says. "We fight all the time. We can't handle everything being thrown at us. We suck."

"We don't suck."

"We kind of do."

"I don't like conflict," Castiel cuts in and disappears from the room, the tablet in his hand falling onto the floor and shattering into three pieces.

"Damn it," Sam complains immediately.

"Why did he just leave like that?" Dean questions the room.

"You heard him. He doesn't like conflict," Lizzy sighs as she gets a reminder of how confusing and sucky her life is right now. They so easily just fought. "He's down in the rec room right now, I guarantee it. I'll go find him."

"I'll come with you," Dean says, handing Sammy to his aunt.

"It's ok," Lizzy brushes off, heading for the door. "He trusts me like crazy right now for some reason…."

"And he doesn't trust me?" Dean challenges, knowing the angel does.

"He does," he assures. "But… just, don't yell or lose your patience, huh?"

He stares at her with an angry face.

"And don't make that face. You want him to talk to you then you can't upset him. Come on," she waves him to come and he follows.

"Sam, will you please pick up the Word of God?" he says over his shoulder as he leaves.

"Yeah…" Sam says, already stooping to the floor to bag the pieces back up.

* * *

"I knew it," Lizzy says as she and Dean peek into the rec room, Castiel standing by another window and looking out it. "He's such a mess."

"No shit," Dean comments. Lizzy starts to head into the room and he hold out a hand, stopping her. "Hey, uh, can I talk to him for a second? Without you?"

"Why?" Lizzy wants to know. "He trusts me."

"I know that… but I need his help here and I need him to trust me too," Dean says without hesitation. "Just let me have ten minutes. If he's not gonna talk to me then come in."

"I can't leave him like this," she rebuts, her fears out in the open. He doesn't do well without her around.

"Stay here, right by the door," Dean suggests. "You don't like how it's going then come in."

Eyes darting to Castiel with worry, Lizzy just lets it go. "Fine. Ok. Just be nice."

"I'm always nice," Dean says with a scowl and walks into the room towards Castiel. He moves slowly in the quiet, otherwise empty room. Go slow, contain his anger. He can do this. Piece of cake.

"I don't want to have an argument with you, Dean," Castiel says to the window, knowing who it is walking towards him.

"Neither do I, Cass," he assures. "But we need to talk. Just talk."

Castiel turns around to face him. "You know I always enjoy talking to you. I learn so much from you and Sam and Elizabeth… and now I feel I will learn very much from Samuel too." He smiles. "He's quite the charming and receptive child. I feel good being in his presence."

Dean huffs a laugh. "So do I."

"I think you will benefit greatly from parenthood," Castiel informs his friend. "It's a beautiful relationship to have and I think that bond will only make you a happier person… and you could certainly use a little more happiness…."

"Getting deep on me, man," Dean comments, face wrinkled with conflict over how to feel about this new Castiel.

The angel just nods once, looking around the room awkwardly.

"You realize you just broke God's Word, right?" Dean says to him, taking a seat at the nearest table in the rec room. "It's Sam's thing, isn't it? You taking on his, uh, Cage-match scars. I'm guessing that's what broke your bank, right?"

"Well, it took... everything to get me here," Castiel explains.

"What are you talking about, man?"

"Dean, I know you want different answers…."

"No," Dean tells him with certainty. "I want you to button up your coat and help us take down Leviathans. Do you remember what you did?"

In a blink, Castiel is standing opposite Dean across the table, the board game Sorry in his hands. Shaking the box once, the entire game is set up on the table to be played.

"Do you want to go first?" Castiel asks, sitting down.

"We don't have time to play games," Dean says in the calmest voice he can manage. "I need to get out there and stop the Leviathan so my son can have a happy life."

"Samuel will have a happy life no matter what you do, Dean," Castiel assures. "He has wonderful parents and a happy disposition set within in his nature. Even if things happen that I have tried my hardest to prevent do in fact happen… he will smile the entire way to his fate. I think I'll be green."

Castiel picks up a card and moves the appropriate spaces around the game board with his green piece while Dean sits there flabbergasted.

"Cass," Dean washes his hands down his face with his elbows on the table top. "I have lost everything this past year. Everything."

"Your move," Castiel says, not seeing the upset in Dean's demeanor.

Teeth gritted with anger that he's barely containing, Dean flips a card and moves a game piece to assuage the angel. "I'm serious. I have to kill Dick. I _have_ to or else losing my, my wife and my car… God, losing Bobby… and the closest thing I've _ever_ had to an actual best friend…."

"You consider me your best friend?" Castiel asks, eyes softening and hopeful with the kind moment.

Eyes locked for a moment of silence and Dean's not ready to answer such a question. A year ago it would have been easier, even if it'd still be massively awkward, to give his honestly positive response. But now, after everything?

"I need to kill Dick so that everything I've lost makes sense to me. I need it all to be worth something."

"You did not lose your wife, Dean," Castiel assures, moving his game piece again. "You've never had a wife, not in the eyes of God at least."

"Oh, well…." Dean sarcastically starts with offence. It may not have been legal or ceremonial but he and Lizzy had a better bond then most married couples. They were married, they were stronger than any other couple have ever been.

"But to me you've always had a wife… or a life partner as you kids sometimes say these days," Castiel gives his views, not understanding the term fully. "You and Elizabeth are a unit. You are not meant to be apart."

"Then ain't life a bitch?" Dean grumps.

Castiel holds up a card from the top of the deck. When Dean doesn't take it he shakes it impatiently. Snatching the card, Dean looks and moves his piece accordingly.

"Life is a bitch, as you say," Castiel nods. "But I have been around a long time. I have seen terrible relationships, unhealthy relationships, beautiful relationships… and yours always seemed to shine brighter than the rest."

"Because you made it that way!" Dean gets fired up and immediately regrets it. Cass flinches but doesn't relent luckily.

"That is certainly not why," Castiel tells him, taking a card and moving another game piece. He taps the deck for Dean to go.

"Then why not?" Dean questions but Castiel just looks at him, glances at the deck and back, and then waits. Sighing, Dean takes his turn. "Why not?"

"Heaven has done its fair share of matchmaking, as you know," Castiel says, taking his green game piece and marching it around the board. "But that does not make a good relationship. Your parents are a good example."

"Don't talk about my parents," Dean warns harshly.

"They were excellent parents," Castiel corrects. "Your mother… she was a true natural. Her love was never ending for her boys. And John… he had his flaws but, in the end, no matter how misguided and damaged he was… John Winchester cared about nothing more than his family." Castiel leans forward a bit with a knowing smirk. "Do they sound like another couple you know?"

Dean gets the connection very easily. "They were happy until Yellow Eyes pissed it all away."

"They were not as happy as you and Elizabeth," Castiel correct. "You must remember the arguments? And the nights John would not sleep at home due to anger?"

Dean grits his teeth and eyes Cass dangerously.

Castiel sighs. "For every million marred, imperfect, jagged pebbles of sand on the beach there is that one smooth, aesthetically pleasing one hidden in the masses."

"You calling me and L a smooth rock?" Dean asks with disbelief.

"It's your turn again," Castiel doesn't answer. Dean picks up a card and plays it. "You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it."

"Monkeys?" Dean asks.

"No offense, but I was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was... just amazing. It's in perfect tune with the spheres." He picks up a card. "But in the end, it was you… the homo sapien's sapiens." He moves his game piece. "You guys ate the apple, invented pants."

"Cass, where can we find this, uh, Metatron?" Dean questions, seeing an opportunity when Castiel's mind starts switching around again. He picks up a card and flips it without looking at it. "Is he still alive?"

Pointing at the card, Castiel tells him, "I'm sorry. I, I think you have to go back to start."

Snatching the marker and slamming it down on start, Dean gets fired up. "This is important. I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. You understand that?"

Silently Castiel takes his next turn.

"I just want to come home, Cass," Dean says with closed eyes. "I want this over with, I want Dick dead, and I want to come home."

"You do not have a home," the angel innocently responds.

Balling his fists tightly, Dean tries not to explode with this rude comment.

"We live in a 'sorry' universe," Castiel starts saying. "It's engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune?" Castiel flips a card and sends one of Dean's piece back to start again. "But these are the rules. I didn't make them."

"You made some of them," Dean rebuts, barely containing his anger. "When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall."

"Dean..." Castiel starts and the man looks right at him, looking for answers. "It's your move."

Dean immediately pounds a fist on the table and swipes the board to the floor, pieces flying off everywhere.

"Forget the damn game!" Dean shouts at him with total anger.

"I'm sorry, Dean…."

"Ok, that's enough!" Lizzy says as she rushes into the room after the commotion.

"No! You're playing Sorry!" Dean fires out. "There's a difference."

"Dean, stop it!" Lizzy says, standing in front of Castiel as Dean gets up and walks around the table towards him. "This isn't getting us anywhere!"

"And coddling him was?" Dean challenges. "We need answers!"

"And Cass needs a fucking minute!"

"I don't like fighting," Castiel warns and Lizzy snaps around to look at him.

"No, no," she says lightly, hands on his shoulders as he sits there. "No one's mad here. No one's fighting."

"That'd be a first," Dean comments under his breath.

As he watches her eyes close, Castiel can feel how sad, tired, hurt, and broken Lizzy is right now. She doesn't deserve to ever feel this way, the angel is more than sure of that. She has earned herself happiness and someone to walk through her difficult life with. She deserves support and love. She deserves Dean Winchester in his right mind… and it's then that he sees what he has to do.

Before either know what's happening, Lizzy and Dean find themselves in a padded room in the mental hospital. They both freeze in place, eyes moving around the plain, bleak, windowless room with shock.

"What the fuck just happened?" Lizzy asks, looking around her.

"No idea," Dean says, marching for the heavy metal door only to find that it's locked from the outside. "Fucking Cass…."

"Shit," Lizzy complains quietly before yelling out, "Cassie!?"

"Cass!" Dean bellows out, fury building. "Damn it, Cass!"

"What is he doing?" Lizzy worries aloud.

"I'm doing what needs to be done," Castiel answers as he appears suddenly. "I'm doing what I would have done if I had been around while you two were forgetting what you each mean to one another."

"The hell are you talking about man?" Dean asks with total frustration. "We don't have time for this!"

"We have all the time you need," Castiel explains.

"English!" Dean shouts.

"I've told you before, time is fluid," Cass says. "As an angel of the Lord I have the power to move through it easily… or not move through it." He then smiles at a thought he has. "That would be one of my super powers if I were a superhero."

"Meaning?" Lizzy asks.

Castiel grins warmly at her. "I care about you, Elizabeth. Your happiness means more to me than most anything else this Earth has to offer… and it has plenty to offer."

"That's sweet, but…."

"You two will remain here until you find your way back to each other," he informs them. "Time will not pass. You will not need to worry about Dick Roman or Samuel's wellbeing… you need not worry about anything but yourselves for the very first time in your lives."

"Cass, this is fucking ridiculous…." Dean tries to argue but the angel will hear none of it. "We're done, ok!? It's over!"

"That is not true."

"But, Cassie… it is…." Lizzy tries again.

"I think you both need to listen to each other a little better. I'm sure that will help."

"I think…." Lizzy tarts but gets cut off.

"The flower needs the honey bee as much as the honey bee needs the flower." Castiel disappears.

* * *

A half an hour in the padded, locked room alone and nothing has happened. With Lizzy sitting wedged in the corner of the room and Dean opposite her with his back against the wall, legs bent up and elbows resting on his knees, they're silent.

Brushing her side swept bangs out of her eyes, Lizzy sighs. "So… I guess we need to talk, honey bee," she says to him with disappointment and exhaustion.

"You're the honey bee," Dean comments angrily.

"Then you're the flower," Lizzy smirks.

Dean just looks at her and huffs a laugh. "Fine, I'll be the bee."

"Too late," she laughs lightly. "You're the beautiful red rose."

"Roses _are_ the sexy flowers," Dean comments with the smallest of grins.

"If you say so," Lizzy full out laughs this time.

For a moment the tension in the room between the barely speaking adults is cut in half by a moment of light ease… the kind of ease that had been their previous default. It's a nice reminder that it's still there.

"So what are we gonna do?" Lizzy asks, her friendly and warm ways returning for the first time since their last night together. "Sit here staring at each other for an eternity? We should at least talk to make Cass happy."

"What the hell is there left to discuss between us?" Dean wonders to her, the fire and piss left out of his tone now. After being there for an hour, or it could be ten minutes since they have no way to tell, he's calmed and cooled off.

"I have no freakin' clue," she huffs a laugh. "But our guy is convinced that we belong together."

"He seriously thinks we haven't tried to fix this before now?"

"Seems like."

"Like we'd just trash everything we had so easily," Dean comments acridly for the assumption.

Lizzy swallows hard. "I'm sorry if you think that I did that. Gave up easily."

When Dean looks at her he can see how small she looks. Lizzy as always appeared larger than life to him. If he were a child and he drew a picture of everyone he knew she'd be the tallest, most imposing image on the page, even taller than Sam… the psychology of it true. When Lizzy looks this small that means remorse and guilt is coursing through her veins stronger than most people could handle.

"No more apologies," Dean says, running his hands through his short hair before clasping his hands together. "And… if you didn't pull the trigger then we'd still be together and still be even more miserable than we are. And most importantly Sammy'd be surrounded by anger all the time… you did what needed to be done."

"I always was the stronger one, wasn't I?" Lizzy smiles a little with her joke.

"Yes, dear," Dean patronizes right back.

Feeling more comfortable than she has in a very long time being in the same room as Dean, Lizzy makes a plan. "Maybe if we talk this out, prove to Castiel that it's done and there's no need to worry because we're splitting amicably… he might get it."

"And let us out of the shoe," Dean tacks on.

"Exactly."

"It's worth a shot…."

"This is _not_ why I put you two in here," Castiel suddenly says with frustration as he appears in the room, sitting Indian style in the corner between the two of them.

"Welcome back, Cass! We were just talking about you," Dean says with an edge.

"I put you in here to rediscover the importance of your bond," Castiel says without looking at either human. He's focused hard on the green caterpillar walking from index finger to index finger over and over again. "And to see that this bond is not going to fade or break."

"Cassie," Lizzy starts, scooting closer. "You don't need to be so concerned about us. It's very sweet but we're going to be ok. We'll make this separation work."

"This was never the outcome I intended," he explains cryptically.

"And that's fine," Lizzy says. "We know you have always had our back when you could."

"I chose very carefully," Castiel tells them. "_Very_ carefully."

"Chose what?" Dean asks, eyes narrowed and trained on the angel. His stomach drops with the way he says it. _Chose_.

"With all the different paths you both could have had… all the futures that could have happened… I refuse to believe that after several years of hard contemplation that I got it so wrong."

Exchanging very worried looks, Dean and Lizzy push Castiel for what it is he's really saying.

"Cassie!" Lizzy shouts for his attention. He looks to her. "What?"

"What-what?" he asks confused.

"What did you choose?" Dean clarifies, making his voice nicer than he thought possible.

"Perhaps you should see it," Castiel brightens with his idea, looking at them both for the first time since he arrived as he gently places the fat green caterpillar in his breast pocket of his trench coat still being worn over his white hospital-wear.

"See what?" Lizzy questions, smiling softly and hoping to stay on Castiel's good side.

"Yes. Yes, this is what needs to be done," Castiel says to them, scooting closer to them both. "I know it."

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean grabs Castiel's wrist when he extends a hand to his forehead. "What are you doing?"

"What I must," Castiel assures him. "You will thank me later."

He moves quickly, pressing his fingertips to both Lizzy and Dean's foreheads swiftly. The world goes black for the two humans.


	2. Tiny Dancer (Part 1)

"Daddy!"

"What?" Dean asks, peering into the backseat of his 2006 Kia Sportage through the rearview mirror as he turns down the Creedence Clearwater Revival he has playing. Looking right back at him is the bright smiling face of his little girl, his whole world, with her dark complexion, hazel colored eyes, and wild, curly, light brown hair.

"Are we going to dance class!?" she asks loudly, her wide eyes hopeful and bright and all her teeth showing in her grin.

"For the hundredth time, yes," Dean answers with slight exasperation as she's been excited about this all day. "We're going to dance class."

"Right now!?"

"Yes…."

"I want to dance so bad!"

"Yeah, I know," Dean half laughs as she's been bugging him about classes for weeks now. "But we're just signing up today. No classes yet."

"Nooooo, I want to dance now…"

"No whining," Dean warns, pulling into an open parking space in front of the small, Main Street store-front with the words _Lawrence Dance Center _painted across the glass in pink. "We don't whine, young lady."

"I'm not whining…"

"Of course you weren't," he huffs in return, knowing she was, while turning off the car and clicking his seatbelt open.

"We're here!?" the little girl perks right back up.

"Sure are," Dean answers, getting out of his seat and walking to her door. He opens it, frees her from her car seat, and holds his arms out to her. "Come on, sweetheart."

She nearly leaps out of her seat and into his arms with excitement. Car locked, he puts her on her feet and they walk hand in hand to the front door. Dean opens it for her and she runs into the studio ahead of him.

"Al!" Dean yells after her as she sprints into the open waiting area space.

"Daddy, it's so pretty!" she yells out with a near screech as she looks around the room, everything painted in shades of pink and purple.

"Yes it is but you gotta calm down a little," he half laughs and then the music that's playing loudly through the building registers for him. Led Zeppelin. His favorite band.

"This is your favorite song, Daddy!" his daughter points out and starts to dance around the waiting room with a smile on her face. She's totally right. 'Ramble On' is one of his favorite songs.

"Hi there!" a voice calls out as a young woman walks into the open waiting area space from one of the studios, paper towers and Windex in hand.

Dean pauses for a moment when he sees her. He wasn't ready for this one. The woman in front of him is beautiful and it catches him for a second. Her long brown hair is pulled up in a loose ponytail, her long bangs sweeping across her forehead. Her bright brown eyes look between his daughter and him while she smiles, every one of her straight, bright white teeth showing.

"Hi!" the little girls says loudly. "Are you my dance teacher!?"

"Well I guess that depends," the woman laughs, the sound just as light and pretty as her. Dean gets a little nervous. "What's your name, honey?"

"Alice," she tells her instantly before pointing behind her to her father. "That's Daddy."

The woman laughs some more as she looks up to the man the little girl is with. When she gets an eyeful of the intensely green irises famed with lashes far too long to be on any man she has to hope he didn't see her flinch a little. Changing her focus back onto the cute as a button little girl she thanks her lucky stars that she has a moment to process how devastatingly handsome this man before her is. "Well, I'm Miss Beth. It's nice to meet you, Alice." She shakes the little girl's small hand.

"Hi," Alice greets again, smile a mile wide.

Beth then takes a deep breath before looking up to the tall man behind the young girl. "Nice to meet you too, Daddy." She could cringe for that lame name she somehow let come out of her mouth but she holds it together.

Dean can feel the blush creeping over his cheeks with how shockingly sexy that was coming out of her even if she wasn't trying. Great, now he's staring at her lips. Ok, keep it cool Winchester.

"It's Dean," he corrects with the best smile he can manage while shaking her hand. "And my daughter is _really_ excited to sign up for a dance class."

"I can see that," Beth tells him backing away and motioning for them to follow her. "Come into my office, you two."

They follow her to a doorway down a hall and as they walk Dean has to ask, "So, uh, I didn't expect to hear some Zeppelin when I came in here. I was figuring something more like Katy Perry… maybe Pink."

"I like Katy Perry," Alice says instantly.

"Yes, dear. I know you do," her father responds, his eyes rolling. He wishes his daughter waited a little longer to have a taste preference in music, especially if it was going to suck so much, but hey, what can he do? She is his daughter after all. She's going to love whatever happens to be her music deeply.

"Oh, well, while we do use a lot of pop and top forty in the classroom, I like to clean the place to what I like to listen to in my non-teaching, free time."

"Daddy loves this song," Alice tells the teacher as they enter the office. Beth walks to an IPod dock and pauses the music. "He listens to it a lot."

"That must mean your daddy loves really good music then."

"Why, thank you," Dean smirks, looking her over again in her tight yoga pants and loose blue tank top. She's in excellent shape, thin with just enough muscle tone to be hot without being intimidating. Perk of the job he's thinking. And damn, how could he not appreciate that ass? Perfect.

"You're welcome. Such a polite young man," Beth grins right back while moving to sit behind her basic, Ikea white desk. "Sit down. Let's talk."

Dean helps his daughter that happens to be on the smaller side for her age into a chair opposite Beth and he takes the other. He looks at the name plate on her desk that has stickers of hearts and ballerinas in pink all over it. Beth Noonan. The name sears itself into his brain.

"So, Alice," Beth begins, pulling out a registration sheet and sliding it in front of Dean, handing him a pen and silently telling him to fill it out. "How old are you?"

"I'm four."

"Do you know when your birthday is?"

"October."

"October what?"

"Fourteenth," Dean answers for her without thinking.

"Oh my goodness you're a little peanut! And you're almost five!?" Beth asks with excitement to equal that which she sees from Alice.

"Yes! I'm gonna have a princess party! Daddy said I could!" Alice tells her, bouncing in her seat.

"You like princesses?"

"Yes!"

"That's good because in my classes we learn how to stand up tall and walk like princesses do," Beth explains and watches Alice's happiness notch up another level. "And I already think I know what class will be perfect for you."

Dean finishes up his paper work as Beth and Alice talk about Disney movies and dance costumes for the year end recital. When he's done he slides the page back to her.

"Thanks," Beth says and takes the pen from him. "So I'm thinking a ballet and acro class will be good for her."

"A ballet and what?" Dean questions immediately.

"Acro. Acrobatics. You know, tumbling."

"You're gonna make her do flips?" Dean asks with disbelief.

"Not this year," Beth laughs a little. "Maybe in the future when she's older. For now it's forward rolls and backbends. Nothing too big."

"Oh," Dean nods, relaxing. He doesn't want his little girl getting hurt.

"Mostly at this age it's an introduction to the basics. We have a Wednesday morning class at ten and a Thursday afternoon at four open," she tells him, looking for an answer. Dean thinks for a second.

"I can do Wednesday mornings I think," Dean speaks aloud, looking at Alice once as he thinks. "I can make sure I don't show anything on those mornings, or I can make Uncle Sammy take you if I can't."

"Ok," Alice shrugs, not caring about the details as long as she gets to take classes.

"Wednesday it is," Beth grins and makes it down on the registration form before reading it over. "Oh look, you live around the corner from me." Shit, should she be telling the hot guy stranger something like that?

"Oh yeah? Where are you?" Dean asks, instantly thinking it was creepy of him to ask such a thing to a woman he just met. Dick move.

"You know the apartment complex on South Eaton?" Don't tell the stranger where you live, dumb ass!

"Yeah, yeah. That's, like, a ten minute walk," Dean says back and smiles despite how stalker-ish he thinks he sounds.

"Right," Beth nods and decides to look back over his form and not be a total bumbling idiot for one second. God damn it he's distracting to look at. "Did you want to add a second contact for emergencies besides yourself?"

"Uh, ok, you know what? Why don't you put down my brother on there. His name's Sam."

"Same last name?"

"Yeah."

"Not Alice's mother?" Beth asks without really thinking. Immediately she knows she just got far too personal.

"Oh, ah, no," Dean answers hesitantly. "It's just me and my girl."

"I see," Beth answers, her heart jumping a little bit with the misstep.

"Mommy's in Heaven," Alice explains quickly, making Beth's face drop. "Daddy says she went there when I was little."

"Oh," she says, realizing her horrible mistake already.

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that…" Dean starts to make amends for his daughter making the moment quite awkward. "She just talks so much these days, saying things that she doesn't know aren't appropriate…"

"I think I'm the one who needs to apologize," Beth answers, looking away for a moment and feeling seriously uncomfortable. "I just, I shouldn't have… but I did… and I obviously assumed a guy like you _had_ to have a wife or girlfriend or whatever…"

"Guy like me?" Dean asks her, a smile already across his face with her rambling words. Maybe he's not the only one liking what they see here. She's flustered at best.

"Well, yeah," Beth says, nervously laughing a little. "You know, a guy that has a daughter and seems like a good dad and has a job and looks the way…" The words, 'you do' die on her tongue with humiliation with what she almost said. She pauses and sighs. "Since my foot is already firmly in my mouth I think I'm gonna stop right there." She blushes furiously.

"How do you know I'm a good dad?" Dean challenges her, getting a slight sick pleasure out of her stuttering mistake. She's just so cute.

Beth swallows hard and chews her bottom lip a little. "You're a single dad bringing your little girl to a dance studio. You're definitely a good dad."

Dean chuckles lightly with this. "Fair enough."

Beth and Dean stare at each other for a couple seconds, bashful smiles aimed at one another before she clears her throat.

"Well, it's a twenty-five dollar registration fee," she starts, fiddling with the registration page out of sudden nervousness. "And it's forty-two dollars a month due on the first with the first month to be paid today. There will be a costume fee in November but that will only be one time, around sixty-five."

"Alice, you're draining my wallet," Dean jokes seriously over to the little girl while taking said wallet out of his back pocket.

"Sorry, Daddy," she says with a sweet grin, knowing he's kidding.

"You need to get a job," Dean keeps going, handing over his credit card for Beth to run.

"No, that's what daddies do," Alice says easily enough.

"Oh is that so?"

"Yes. Kids just have fun and go to school."

"You go to preschool, Alice?" Beth intrudes a bit while waiting for the old credit card machine to run Dean's card. She feels very comfortable with these two already, comfortable enough to put herself right into a conversation that was between just them.

"Yes. I go to preschool with Miss Kate and Miss Laurie."

"Animal Crackers. It's just up the street," Dean clarifies.

"Oh, I have a ton of little ones from there," Beth nods, knowing the place quite well.

"Yeah. She loves school," Dean tells Beth while smiling at his daughter. "She must get that from her brainy uncle."

"Not a school kinda guy, Dean?" Beth asks, pushing a receipt across the desk for him to sign.

"God no," he laughs. "I barely made it through."

Beth just smiles at that. At least he's honest.

Once the receipt is signed Beth smiles at the two of them. "You are all set. Alice will need a pair of pink ballet slippers and something to wear, like a leotard and tights. They sell everything at the dance store a block over and if you ask for help they're very good. And patient."

"See," Dean points at his daughter immediately with an over-the-top fake anger. "Expensive!"

"No!" Alice giggles back.

"Yes!" Dean fights back, reaching out to her and picking her up, pulling her into his lap.

"No, Daddy! I'm not!" she says with a cheek breaking smile.

"Yes you so are. I'm broke already and you're only four," Dean says and goes in for the kill. He starts to tickles her, his fingers attacking her middle. "What am I gonna do when you're sixteen?"

"I don't know!" she screeches while squirming and laughing hysterically.

Beth sits back, grinning from ear to ear with what she sees. These two are as thick as thieves, she sees it already. And this man sitting across from her is just so warm and absolutely adorable. She suddenly finds herself very much looking forward to her Wednesday mornings.

"Well, Miss Beth, it was very nice to meet you," Dean says, ending the assault and standing up with Alice in his arms. "And I know this one is looking forward to starting class in a couple days."

"That's good because I am super excited to have her," Beth assures, having an exceptionally good feeling about adding this family to the studio for some reason. "Alice, it was excellent to meet you," Beth says to the sweet child before letting her eyes drift to her father. "You too… Dean."

"We'll see you Wednesday," Dean grins wide, suddenly ready for the next two days to fly by. He peers at his daughter. "Ok, now we go to the grocery store."

"Can I eat some grapes?" Alice asks, her face lighting up.

"Sure," Dean answers as they head out the office and towards the front door. "As long as you sit in the cart and keep the food organized."

"I always do, Daddy," Alice answers with obviousness.

"No way! Last time you got lazy."

"I was just making a new system," Alice excuses as Dean reaches the front door.

Beth walks into the waiting room and watches them leave, listening to their easy conversation.

"Can we get the pie that you said Mommy used to make?"

"You liked that a lot, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Babycakes, we can _always_ get pie."

The front door closes and she can no longer hear them speaking but she decides to let herself watch Dean as he straps Alice into her seat. With just a t-shirt on in the early fall weather she can see the muscles of his arms flex with use. He takes care of himself. He looks good.

There's something nagging at the back of her mind. What it is she has no idea but it's there. She can't put her finger on it but there's something about him. He's hot as hell, yes, but it's more than that.

With the image of the new parent just added to her studio in her mind, Beth returns to cleaning the studio before her classes start.

* * *

"Hi, Miss Beth!"

Beth turns around from the large, oversized picture frame containing all the group photos from the previous dance season to look at the source of the loud yell.

"Good morning, Alice!" Beth greets with the biggest, best smile she can provide without, hopefully, looking flushed with obvious impression. Dean's carrying her in one arm and a takeout coffee in the other into the studio wearing a t-shirt and jeans combination not unlike the one he wore the other day when they met. The shirt hangs off of him just perfectly, not too tight but not too loose to keep his form a total secret. And what a form it is. He's clearly over six foot with a broad, strong build.

"Is it time for class!?" Alice all but yells out.

"Well, kiddo, you're about fifteen minutes early," Beth tells her as she looks at the waiting room clock.

"I told you so," Dean says to his girl in an I-told-you-so voice.

"No you didn't," Alice fights right back.

"Are you joking?" Dean rebuts quickly. "I told you we were gonna be too early before we left."

"I'm excited for class," she responds between gritted teeth with her face close to his, saying it as if to ask her dad to not embarrass her in front of her new teacher.

"You are!? I had no idea," Dean jokes right back and puts her down. "Go put your dance shoes on."

"Ok," Alice says as Dean reaches into his back denim pocket to hand her new tiny slippers over. She takes them and sits down on the benches in the waiting area, getting to work.

"She's full of it," Dean shares with the dance teacher. "She got up an hour early today because she couldn't sleep. She's going nuts over this dance thing."

"Oh man," Beth laughs at that.

"Yeah, what a great way to start the day, right?" Dean jokes, holding his coffee up in jest.

"Well, I'm sorry if you're tired," Beth says, her hand landing on his shoulder easily before she thinks that might be too forward. This is a client after all.

"I'll make it," Dean laughs, not at all perturbed by her touching him. He didn't mind in the least and from this short distance he can see how bright and beautiful her eyes are. She really is an exceptionally good looking woman.

"Well take a load off," Beth says gesturing to the benches. "I'm just gonna be figuring this whole mess out over here if you don't mind…"

"What are you doing?" Dean nods to the half-done project she'd been standing in front of.

"Oh, well, I framed the yearend dance pictures of all the recital pieces and I was going to hang them up… but I failed to estimate the weight of the massive metal frame I just _had_ to use."

"How heavy is it?" Dean asks, walking towards the oversized frame.

"Um, well, just feel it for yourself." Beth walks over to him as he lifts the frame to test it.

"Oh crap," he says to her. "That _is_ heavy. If you're gonna hang it you better find a stud or two or else the screws won't be able to hold this thing."

"That was my fear," Beth nods, looking at her studio walls. "Great. I'm just super not-at-all handy with this stuff."

"You know, I could put it up for you," Dean offers immediately.

"You'd do that?" she asks with surprise. That was a quick offer.

"Sure," he shrugs. "I'd have to go home and get my stud finder but I can have this done before her class gets out."

"No, I can't ask you to do that…"

"You didn't," Dean tells her with a grin. "I offered."

Beth bites her bottom lip and looks at her feet. Could he be any sweeter?

"So once she's in the room I'll just pop back to the house," he explains. "Just don't let her know I left. Sometimes she gets… weird if I'm gone."

"She wouldn't be the first," Beth lets him know how normal that is. "And thank you. I'm not really a tools kind of gal." Beth yawns when she looks the frame over again.

"I'm guessing you aren't a morning kinda gal either," Dean takes note of the detail.

"God no!" Beth laughs quietly. "I only do morning classes on Wednesday and Saturday. I am way better after, say, noon time."

"Good to know," Dean lets slip out. He meant to say this as in he'd get her a coffee next week on his own run to help her out but it certainly didn't come off that way.

Beth looks at him funny for a second with the comment.

"Ah, I mean that… it's good to know 'cause I'd get you help," Dean tries to clarify but fails. She keeps staring at him. "Coffee. I'd get you coffee… is what I meant… Jesus." He shakes his head.

Beth grins with the far too adorable moment. "That's a sweet gesture."

"Good morning!" a woman greets loudly while walking into the studio with a tiny ballerina walking in with her, another mother and daughter right behind them.

"Morning!" Beth responds, looking at Dean quickly. "Showtime. And thank you again."

"Not a problem," he responds, watching her walk towards the other mothers, talking animatedly to them as if she's not tired at all. She moves smoothly and her demeanor is so warm. She must have a booming business.

"Look Daddy!" he hears his daughter's voice say to him and he looks down. "My dance shoes!"

Alice points to her feet now clad in ballet slippers.

"They're beautiful," Dean says to her before picking her up and sitting with her in his lap on one of the wooden benches. "Just like you, sweetheart." He kisses her cheek before blowing a good, solid raspberry on it.

"Daddy!" she giggles loud, pushing him away.

"What? You don't like kisses anymore?" Dean jokes and blows another one on her other cheek, getting her going again.

"Stop it!" Alice yells out happily. "You're being crazy!"

"I'm crazy?" Dean asks, fixing the elastic in her hair to be tighter, making the big poof of curly brown hair more secure. He's well aware that he's one of the only dads out there that knows how to make a ponytail but what can he do? Single fatherhood of a daughter makes a guy learn how to do things that he never, ever would have thought he'd do. "You're crazy."

"No, you're crazy," Alice rebuts immediately.

"No, you're the crazy one," Dean says right back.

"Daddy, you're the crazy one!"

"You're totally crazy."

"No, you're crazier!"

"You're the craziest of all the crazies in Crazytown!"

"Alright, ladies!" Beth suddenly yells out to the crowd that's grown to at least eight children each accompanied by a mother. "Are we ready!?"

The swarm of girls in the room immediately run towards the open studio door, ready for class.

"That's you, superstar," Dean tells her, putting her down. "Give daddy some sugar." He points to his cheek. She dutifully kisses him once. "You listen to Miss Beth."

"Ok!" Alice yells as she runs into the room with the other girls with far too much excitement.

When the door shuts Dean sighs and pulls out the keys to his car. Time to get moving. He wants to make sure he has plenty of time to hang that picture frame for the cute as hell dance teacher.

* * *

Stepping back from the wall he looks over his work. The frame is hung high enough for most to see but not too high that the young kids can't get a good look. And it's straight. And it'll be there for as long as Beth wants it to be since he was able to find a couple wall studs. Not too shabby.

"Nice work," one of the mothers says to him from the benches where the stay at home moms sit, gossiping about their husbands and drinking coffee during their one hour off per week.

"Ah, thanks," Dean says over his shoulder, happy that he had the distraction for the hour. These woman are tough sometimes. And he now knows more about their husbands than he ever wanted to know about anyone.

"You're very handy," another adds in. "Must be something the wife loves."

Dean nods with the lack of subtlety. "Not wife, but… she used to."

No one talks for a second while trying to decipher what that means.

"Come sit with us, Dean," the mom with the fake blonde dye job suggests, patting an open spot on the bench. "Tell us about yourself and relax for the last five minutes."

"Um, ok," Dean answers, suppressing his eye roll as he packs up his small tool box before walking towards the lion's den, as he's deemed it. He sits and looks around, eight female faces looking right at him. "What did you want to know?"

"So, you're not married?" one asks, the one with sweatpants that say Juicy on the ass and too much makeup on.

"Nope," Dean answers succinctly.

"Really!?" the fake blonde asks with shock.

"Well, I had a girl for a while… but now it's just me and daughter." He keeps it simple. These random women don't need to know everything about him, right?

"Huh," another woman comments while eyeing him over. "Shame that all of us are married then."

The group laughs a little and Dean can feel the red heat on his cheeks as he smiles as best he can.

"Beth isn't married though," Juicy pants mentions. "Did you know that, Dean?"

"Well, no…"

"She's single and looking," assures the overweight woman farthest from him says. "She's a very pretty girl…"

"And so good with our girls," adds in a brunette. "She's a natural with children."

"Glad we came to this studio then," Dean comments, dying a little more on the inside.

"We just love her," blondie mentions. "I think that you'll see how wonderful she is soon enough. Maybe you should take her out for coffee or something, get to know her better."

"Daddy!" he hears his Alice call out and looks to see Beth holding the door open for the girls to leave.

"Oh, thank God," Dean grumbles very low and out of ear shot of the women as he stands up to meet her. "Hey, sweetheart!" He scoops her up and walks away from the lion's den. His girl looks so damn happy. This must have been a good idea… minus the mothers. "It looks like you had fun."

"I did! Look at my sticker!" Alice answers with sheer glee, hugging his neck tightly and then showing him the sparkly sticker on the back of her hand.

"And you listened to your teacher?"

"Of course," Alice says with obviousness and shakes her head exaggeratedly.

"That's my girl," Dean smiles and hugs her once more. When she's this happy he's always just as happy. She's his world and he would die to see her like this. "So you want to come back next week?"

"Yes!" Alice adamantly responds, pulling back to look at him. "We got to be princesses with wands!"

"Really!?" Dean asks her, sitting with her on his lap as he takes her ballet shoes off.

"Yes! Miss Beth says ballerina princesses walk like this," she explains, making her neck long and holding her arms overhead.

"And you didn't get in any trouble?" Dean checks.

"No way," Beth answers for Alice as she walks towards them. "She's a natural and an excellent listener. She did great."

"Well that's what I like to hear," Dean responds, grinning at her as he stands up with Alice perched on his hip, her shoes in the other hand.

"Alice is going to do great this year. No worries, Dean," Beth assures, her smile never faltering.

"That's more of what I want to hear," Dean says to his daughter before looking back at her teacher. "Thank you so much but we have to run. Time for school and for me to go to work."

"Bye, Miss Beth!" Alice says far too loudly.

"Bye, Alice."

Dean smiles warmly at her once before turning for the door, leaving quickly to get on with his very packed day.

"So… Miss Beth," the fake blonde woman starts as she walks towards the teacher. "_Who_ is that?"

"Just met him. His name's Dean," she answers. "He signed Alice up two days ago."

"Well, he's unbelievably hot."

"Oh, no…" Beth answers as she knows where this is going already.

"You need to get on that _now_," the mother tell her. "That man is single but not for long if his looks have anything to do with it."

"Easy, Colleen," Beth laughs, glancing out the glass window to see Dean buckling Alice into their car.

"No easy. You've been focusing on this business only for three years straight. Time to have fun and that right there," she points out the window as Dean gets into the driver's seat. "Is guaranteed fun."

Beth looks on and sighs. "He is hot, isn't he?" she gives in.

"Yes! Very," Colleen says with a smirk.

"Hmm, he seems really nice too…"

"Oh, done. I'm setting it up next week."

"You're insane, Colleen," Beth says to the mother she's known for two years now. "He's still a client. Don't mess with my business!"

"Too damn late. I'm doing it."

"Don't," Beth says and walks towards the office.

"Do!"

"Don't!"

Beth disappears into the office.

"Do," Colleen grins to herself and goes to get her daughter. Her gears are turning.

* * *

"And then we did this," Alice explains and spins in place, her leotard with attached pink tutu and tights still on.

"Wow!" Sam overacts. "That was magnificent."

"Thank you," Alice answers and curtsies.

"And a bow!" Sam jokes, looking over at his brother as they sit in the living room of Dean's home with wide eyes. Dean just shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

"That's a rever-ants," she tries to pronounce. "Miss Beth taught us that."

"Amazing," Sam commends. "I'm impressed."

"Miss Beth is really nice. She said she was gonna teach us tricks on the mats and she's really pretty, right Daddy!?"

"Yes. Sweetheart, it's late," Dean answers when he looks at the clock. "Go put your pajamas on."

"I want to stay in my dance stuff," Alice complains instantly.

"Was that whining?" Dean asks her with narrowed eyes.

"No, Daddy," she says with a down tone.

"Didn't think so. I let you keep that stuff on all day. Get dressed for bed."

Alice trudges off down the hallway to her room to put her clothes for sleep on. She knows better than to fight with her father. She never wins.

"She's obsessed," Sam comments before taking down a gulp of his own bottle of beer, knowing Alice is far enough away.

"You have no idea," Dean shakes his head. "She's been in her dance clothes since eight this morning. She wore them to school even. And all she's done is dance around the house since we got home."

"So it _was_ a good idea," Sam says with far too much pride. "You should probably thank the brilliant, smart, tall guy that put the idea in her head then."

"The second he starts paying for everything at the studio then sure, I'll thank his ass."

Sam chuckles at that quickly. "And she seems to love this teacher of hers."

"Oh, Miss Beth," Dean nods. "It's been Miss Beth said this and Miss Beth did that all afternoon. She loves her." He looks down at his beer bottle and grins quickly before hiding it and taking a sip.

"What was that?" Sam asks, having seen that little moment.

"What was what?"

"That little bullshit grin… what was that about?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You smiled." Sam smirks. "So Miss Beth's cute."

"She's not… well, she's pretty cute and she seems really great with the kids… but that has, has nothing to do with anything."

"Oh boy," Sam laughs to himself with that reaction. "She's hot."

"Sammy, for fucks sake…"

"Tell me she's not hot."

Dean pauses and grits his teeth but doesn't answer.

Sam nods with a face of shock. "Wow. Now I _gotta_ see this girl."

"Dude, it was an hour at a dance studio. She's a girl that teaches a dance class that my daughter was in. She's just good with Alice is all…"

"I'm _sure_ that's all," Sam smugly responds and sips his beer.

"And by the way, can you pick her up from the studio at eleven next week?" Dean asks, remembering she was in a jam. "I have a couple that can only see this one house on Wednesday around ten-thirty."

"Sure," Sam shrugs, happy to help. And happy to scope out the chick that has caught Dean's attention… the first one to do so in far too long.

"Thanks, man," Dean tells his brother as he hears quick footsteps come down the hallway of the small home.

"Uncle Sammy, can you read to me tonight?"

Alice holds out a book to him, all dressed in her nightgown, and Sam's heart melts. He's a sucker for this niece of his, her big hazel eyes with long lashes getting him every time.

"You know I will," Sam says, downing the last of his bottle and placing the empty on the coffee table. He then stands and picks up the tiny girl. "Let's do this."

Alice bounces in Sam's arms with happiness that he's staying for her.

"I'll lock up on my way out when I'm done," Sam tells his brother. "Madison's probably wondering where I am anyways so I better go once she's passed out."

"Tell her hey."

"I will. Night, dude."

"Later, Sammy. Night, babycakes."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

As his brother goes to read his daughter to sleep, Dean smiles. Sam's comments certainty are making him think. Beth was a hot little thing with a lot of his favorite female features. Deep dark eyes, long dark hair, perfect skin and a hell of an ass. And she was really good with his daughter which has become his barometer for people in his life for nearly five years now.

He then thinks of Cassie. It's been just over two years since she passed and he misses her. No, things were not perfect between the two of them when she passed away but still, that didn't change the fact that he loved her to some extent. She was beautiful, Alice being a near replica of her despite her lighter skin tone, the perfect mix of his paler skin and her dark mahogany coloring. All Alice got from him was his nose and maybe his eye lashes. Dean wouldn't change that for anything.

But now, as he sits and thinks about the woman he met this week, he recognizes that for the first time since Cassie passed he's looking at another woman. He hasn't found himself doing that for two years straight, his one and only priority being his little girl. She's his world, his everything, the only reason he's straightened up his life. He's been so focused on making sure Alice didn't miss anything in life once she was left with just one parent that his personal life has fallen by the wayside. He hasn't seen his friends in ages and the thought of getting involved with another woman just seemed selfish. His little girl needed him and he needed nothing else but her happiness to feel complete… until now.

He can't help but think about Beth. Her bright smile made him pause when he first saw it and her wonderful demeanor with Alice is what really sealed it for him. This woman is intriguing.

* * *

"He's so hot," Beth says over the phone to her best friend Lou. When Beth moved halfway across the country the two of them have had a standing date every Wednesday. A phone call to catch up was mandatory. All the other shorter calls made throughout the week, once a day at least, were never long enough to count.

"Like how hot?" Lou wonders.

"Like… I have to look at him through a pin hole in a paper plate or I'll go blind kinda hot."

"Serious?" Lou wonders with excitement.

"Dead," Beth returns, curling up on her couch in her tiny apartment. "His eyes are insane."

"Color?"

"Bright green like I didn't know existed before now," Beth admits while picturing them in her mind.

"Mm," Lou nods. "You've always been a sucker for good eyes."

"I have but what's worse is that's not his best feature," Beth explains, going full blow girlie. "His lips should be illegal. I caught myself staring at them while he was talking today and I kinda forgot what he said. Luckily I was able to figure it out with what little I did manage to hear so that when I was supposed to respond I didn't sound like an asshole."

"Ok, pictures or he doesn't exist!" Lou finally declares and Beth laughs.

"I'll see what I can do," Beth laughs with the request as she tries to picture how in the hell she'd be able to excuse doing that.

"You think he's interested?"

"Probably not," Beth returns. "The man clearly has a one track mind and that's on his daughter. And I know for a fact that his wife, or girlfriend… Alice's mother… passed away but I don't know when."

"Oh, baggage…"

"Stop, Lou," Beth rolls her eyes. "Who doesn't come with baggage at our age… or his age really? I think he's a few years older than me."

"Hmm," Lou can be heard thinking on the other end of the phone. "Well, all I know is you're telling me about a man, a very hot one, that comes to see you once a week. The first time he brings his polite and very well-behaved daughter in for class he immediately offers to help you out and play handyman. And… clearly you already like him."

"He gives a good vibe, what can I say?"

"Say that you'll flirt shamelessly and make sure he knows you're interested so that if he wants to he asks you out he does."

Beth groans.

"You don't have to be too obvious!" Lou reminds her. "Just a… a look here, a touch there… a comment about how your friend was gonna visit the next weekend and cancelled so now you're free this weekend…"

"What!?" Beth complains loudly when she hears her friend loud and clear.

"I'm sorry!"

"You did this last time!"

"And I got a shitload of work dropping into my lap again this time," Lou explains. "I'm about five seconds from strangling my boss but just short of that I got nothing. My hands are tied."

"Damn, Lou," Beth responds, the letdown killing her.

"I know, I know, but I'll come soon," Lou tries to make it better.

"Whatever," Beth says grumpily. "You just ruined my night."

"Well, think about Dean as you fall asleep then. It'll get better."

"You suck so bad."

"You know you love me."

"Yeah, I do," Beth grumbles out.

"Alright, I gotta catch some sleep."

"You're a bitch."

"Yeah… good night, Bethie!"

"Night, asshole."

Ending the call, Beth tosses her phone onto the couch beside her. She sighs heavily, the disappointment of her workaholic friend once more not coming out to see her as promised really lets her down. They haven't seen each other since Beth went home for Christmas, visiting her extended family. She stayed with Lou and the two of them had a blast, just like when they were in high school.

This one hit did hurt but Lou made a good point. Maybe she could find some balls and mention how free she is in a couple of weekends when she sees the hot dad on next Wednesday morning. Drop a hint or two… see if he takes the bait…

Yeah right, Beth reminds herself. She's never been the outgoing and confident woman when it comes to men. More likely than not she'll fumble her words, put her foot in her mouth, and then watch him leave with his adorable daughter in tow.

God, she sucks with men.


	3. Tiny Dancer (Part 2)

"Hey, Colleen," Beth warmly greets when she sees the woman walk into the waiting room on the next Wednesday morning. She then focuses on her daughter. "Good morning, Avery!"

"Morning, Miss Beth," the child returns and opens her dance bag to put on her shoes. Colleen immediately leaves her kid to her own devices in favor of gossiping with the dance teacher.

Colleen gives the room a quick scan to be sure. "He's not here yet so this is what I found out…"

"Found out?" Beth groans with letdown. "Colleen, don't do this…"

"It's been done so too damn late," Colleen powers out and keeps talking anyways. "So I have a friend that went to high school with him here in Lawrence. He's lived in town his whole life, a total townie. From what she remembers he was a little bit on the popular side in school but looking like that who wouldn't be…"

"I don't care about what someone was like in high school," Beth cuts in, knowing she herself is nothing the same as her adolescent years.

"Fine. After high school he started working locally, he didn't do the college thing," Colleen continues her findings. "My friend lost track of him for a while but he did go to the five year reunion with a very pregnant girlfriend, bragging that she was due soon and he looked way too happy about it."

Beth sighs. She hates this whole gossip bullshit that her clients are always so involved in. They thrive on it while she feels guilty and awful about it.

"His girlfriend died two years ago, some infection or sickness or something. Since then he's been scarce around town, only about when working or with his daughter. Two years is a long time. Maybe he's ready…."

"Ahem," Beth clears her throat when she see Dean walk through the studio doors, lowering Alice to the floor as she runs off the talk to her new friends from class. "Don't make assumptions. And _don't_ embarrass him."

"I'm just saying…" Colleen starts as Dean smiles and walks their way, taking one to-go coffee cup off of the other one where it had been stacked so he has one per hand. "You make a move or us married women will lock him away and take turns when the husbands aren't around. He's amazing…. Hello, Dean!" she says nice and loud when he reaches them.

"Ah, morning… Colleen?" he asks with narrowed eyes.

"You remembered my name," Colleen answers with her hands pressed over her heart exaggeratedly and walks past him, a hand temporarily on his forearm. "Hope you stay and chat with us today Dean."

"Uh, I can't," Dean says to her. "Have to go show a house I need to sell." He turns back to Beth with a wide grin. "I need to let you know my brother will be picking her up today."

"Oh," Beth nods, hoping her disappointment didn't make her obvious.

"Yeah, his name is Sam, he's about yay-high," Dean gestures with a coffee, raising it above his head. "Long girly hair… really, you can't miss the guy."

"Sounds good," she laughs at his description. Beth smiles back and they have another one of those moments when they both pause, looking at each other until it gets awkward seconds later.

Dean then snaps out of his trance and clears his throat as he holds out his hand. "I, uh… so I got you a coffee. You said you're not a morning person and, well, neither am I, or at least I wasn't until Al came along. She's got me on a whole different schedule."

"I hear kids do that," Beth smiles warmly, touched by the gesture as she takes the cup. "Thank you."

"Uh, I didn't know how you take it… your coffee, I mean…" Dean says reaching into his back pocket before holding out a multitude of different colored sugar packets. "So I got a little of everything. And I had them put skim milk in there… hope that works…."

"It works just fine," Beth grins like a fool right back up to him with the kindness he shows along with the stuttery-nervous mannerisms he's showing off. She takes the packets. "I usually do skim milk anyways."

"Got lucky then," Dean huffs an awkward laugh and shifts on his feet. "So, I'm gonna head out and that's ok, right?"

"That's fine. I'll make sure she leaves with your tall and long haired brother," Beth huffs a laugh while on the inside she can't believe she's been actually kind of smooth through this conversation despite her once more staring at his lips too much. As weird and terrible as it would be if she did it, Beth somewhat wants to just press her lips to his just once, just to see what it feels like. Ugh, so not the thought for right now…

"Thank you," Dean nods and tears his eyes off of her, sad that this is the last he'll get to see of her this week. He turns to his daughter and pulls her dance shoes out of his other back pocket. He crouches down to hand them over, interrupting his daughter's circle of friends. She hugs him goodbye and puts her shoes on as Dean makes his way out the front door again, glancing at his little girl once more before leaving for his day.

"Beth!?" one of the mothers calls to her and she looks over to the horde of eight moms sitting on the benches all staring at her. "Where'd you get that coffee from?"

They all know where and Beth rolls her eyes. "Calm it down, ladies. He was just being nice. Alright, dancers! Let's do this!"

She ushers the kid into class to avoid the mom-inquisition.

* * *

"What are you gonna do this week before I see you next Wednesday?" Beth asks the class of four and five year olds as they line up to leave.

"Practice!" they all yell back.

"What are you gonna practice?"

"Skips!" one little girl answers back.

"What else?" Beth tests them after having told them they needed to work on two things this week.

"Forward rolls!" Alice answers and Beth nods.

"Absolutely! Nice job today ladies! I'll see you next week!"

She opens the studio room door and the girls go flying out, running to their mothers.

"Uncle Sammy!" Alice shouts out when she sees her uncle and runs to him. Beth takes a peek with sheer curiosity at the guy. Currently he's surrounded by the flocking dance mothers and she already feels badly for him. They couldn't have been too comforting to him his first time at a studio.

And then he stands up. The man is a giant, Dean did not lie. He's even taller than his brother by a good couple inches at least with shaggy brown hair to his shoulders and a smile that is just too warm and sweet to not be infectious.

"Hey twinkle toes," Sam jokes as he bends down to scoop up Alice before hugging his niece tight. "How was class?"

"Fun," she tells him as she sits comfortable in his hold, her tiny form looking even smaller against his quite massive size.

"As fun as hanging out with me you mean?"

"Yes."

"Good!" Sam says, his eyes scanning the room and immediately stopping on who he knows has to be the dance teacher he's very curious over.

As soon as he looks her over he gets it. Dean's cooked. This girl is everything his brother normally finds appealing and Sam knows it. Add on the good with kids part, specifically with Alice, and suddenly Sam understands quite perfectly why his brother gets weird whenever 'Miss Beth' is brought up.

"Hi there," Sam says, picking up the pace of his steps when he sees her. "I'm Sam."

"Beth," she answers and hold out her hand, shaking his.

"So you're the elusive Miss Beth," Sam laughs lightly. "I've already been told so much about you."

"Oh really?" Beth answers back with a surprised grin.

"Definitely," Sam answers back. "This one has not shut up about her dance teacher all week. You must be good."

"I'm alright," Beth laughs with discomfort, feeling a little on the spot.

"No modesty needed. She loves you."

"That's good then because so far Alice is killing it in my class," she smiles. "But I think she's just having fun dancing. I doubt I've had a whole lot to do with it."

"Yeah, well from what I've been told you're very good," Sam assures her. "I know a couple people that sure think that's true."

"A couple?" Beth asks with confusion.

"Well, Alice says you're the best dance teacher ever and my brother's had some quite complimentary things to say too."

Beth's eyes grow wide with shock at this. Dean was talking about her? Great, now she's blushing.

"Well, that's… good, good to hear." She nods furiously with sudden nervous energy.

The flustered response isn't lost on Sam.

"Thank you, Miss Beth," Sam moves on and lets her relax. "But now the two of us are off."

"Are we going to school?" Alice asks her uncle.

"Yes ma'am, I'm bringing you while your dad works," Sam tells her. "But I was thinking that we could stop for lunch first, just you and me."

"Yeah!" Alice simply gets far too excited about the idea.

"Alright, let's go then," Sam says with equal excitement before turning to Beth. "It was very nice to meet you, Beth."

"You too, Sam," she grins sweetly at the interaction between the two.

As they leave Beth can't help but think they there's something about this family. They seem so close, so happy… she remembers having that herself. As much as they make her miss that it feels good to see a family so connected, so loving. It's a reminder in a good way.

* * *

A whole week has gone by and once more it's Wednesday morning. Normally Beth hates getting up on these mornings, being the late riser she likes to be on most days, but this Wednesday she isn't feeling so dreary and tired. She's wide awake.

And if she took a little extra time that a.m. to work on her makeup and do her hair, leaving it down and straightened today, then she blames it on having naturally woken up early. She had time to kill. That's all.

As her studio front door opens and she looks to see who it is, she may or may not have a sudden case of butterflies when a certain green eyed man makes his way towards her.

"Miss Beth!" his daughter instantly yells out when she sees her.

"Alice!" Beth yells right back with a grin on her face, letting herself be a little goofy. Why not? She works with kids after all. "Good morning!"

"I practiced like you said!" Alice tells her, scrambling to get down from Dean's hold. He lets her go and the little girl instantly kicks off her bright pink suede boots. "Watch!"

"You want help?" Beth asks, crouching to the floor ready to spot the little girl if she needs it.

"Nope!" Alice raises her arms high before bending in half and tucking her head under. Rolling forward and then scrambling back onto her feet when done, she shouts, "Ta-da!" with her arms up high just as they practiced.

"Alice, that was awesome!" Beth encourages her while impressed. "That was so good!"

"Thank you!" she shouts and runs for her teacher. Without warning she nearly tackles Beth, her arms around her neck as she hugs her in celebration.

Laughing, Beth hugs back. It's the little things that make her job kick ass.

After a second the little girl pulls back and runs towards her father. He hands over her ballet shoes and she sits on the carpet to put them on.

"She's been practicing that all week, you know?" Dean tells her, an eyebrow lifted as he grins.

"I can tell," Beth laughs lightly as she steps towards him a little. "She's a quick learner, I'll give her that."

"She has a good teacher," Dean says, looking down at his daughter to hide after the compliment. It came out before he could stop it.

Beth crosses her arms over her chest with the kind words, taking a deep breathe. Oh shit, he likes her, doesn't he?

"Here," Dean says, handing over a fresh coffee to her just like the week before.

"Seriously?" Beth says with surprise and he just looks at her as he shakes the cup for her to take it. She does. "You really don't have to do that every week."

"I know," Dean shrugs and takes a sip of his own drink. It grows silent and he searches his brain for something to say to her but he fails. Luckily she speaks first and breaks the quiet.

"You guys are early again," Beth points out, knowing how damn lame she sounds.

"Yeah… uh," Dean swallows hard, knowing he came a few minutes before he knew the other women would be showing up for a reason. "I wanted to… ask something, I guess. Before the flock gets here." Keep it cool, Winchester. Don't get nervous now.

"The flock?"

"The mom horde."

"Right. Makes sense," Beth huffs a little, shifting on her feet.

"I'm gonna drop her off at school at noon today and I happened to have no houses to show after that," Dean explains his schedule to her. "So I was wondering… if you don't have anything to do this afternoon… I mean, before your night classes start…."

"Oh," Beth says, mouth going dry as she nods like an idiot. Is this happening? "I… I, um… no. I'm not doing anything, not until four."

"This may be kinda out of nowhere," Dean says as Alice stands up and hands over one of her slippers with a knot in the laces, silently asking him to untie it. He starts working on it and continues to ramble. "And I'm not trying to put you on the spot here or anything so a no is fine… I mean you don't even know me and you probably already have a boyfriend or something…."

"Dean?" Beth calls his name out to end his rambling loop. She grins at him while he's being that cute.

When Dean looks up at her he smiles a little and realizes he's being ridiculous. "You want to grab some lunch with me?"

She can't have hear that right. That sounded like a date. No way…

"Sure," Beth answers back before her nervousness could kill her.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, just to make sure.

"Why not?" Beth answers back and smiles wide, far too excited about the idea of sitting down with Dean and getting to know him a little better.

"Can't think of a single reason," Dean jokes as the front door opens again and the mothers and daughters start to filter in. "Meet you at Annie's at twelve-thirty?"

"I can do that," Beth nods.

"Good," Dean smiles wide at her, looking away quickly so as not to let on for the gossip queens what just happened here. "You got everything, babycakes?"

"Yes, daddy," Alice answers easily as she places her boots under the bench to keep them out of the way, just like Dean had taught her.

And Lizzy just takes a deep breath and tries to hide the excitement that's got to be written all over her face. This was about to be the longest dance class she ever taught.

* * *

He's late.

Beth has been sitting in a booth for about fifteen minutes now, nervously tapping her foot as she waits for her… lunch date? Is this a date?

More concerning, is he standing her up? He probably thought twice. Seriously, the guy is so smoking hot that he could do better. She's cute, pretty even, but this guys is exceptional.

Maybe he chickened out. He seemed so damn nervous when he asks her to meet him for lunch. He might have changed his mind, thinking this was a bad idea….

And the bell above the old school diner door rings and it makes her focus snap to the source. She relaxes immediately, having not been stood up when she sees Dean scanning the room for her, but she then gets nervous in a whole new way when she realizes she wasn't stood up. Damn it. He's here. And he looks so good in his worn jeans and open flannel over a t-shirt…

"Hey," Dean smiles when he sees her sitting there alone. He rushes over to her, taking a seat opposite her in the booth quickly. "I'm _so_ sorry I'm late."

"Oh, no… it wasn't even that long," Beth tries to brush off the fear she had that he wouldn't show.

"I dropped Alice at school and realized I didn't have her pills for snack so I had to go home or else she couldn't eat with the other kids. I mean, God forbid she be different, right?" Dean huffs a laugh.

"Oh, right," Beth grins, suppressing the desire to ask about what Alice needs pills for exactly.

"Yeah, she's already gotta take a damn pill every time she eats so she's different enough at that age. I don't have the heart to make it worse by making her the only kid without snack, you know?"

"I can understand that," Beth nods, looking at him with a kind expression, still keeping her want to know at bay.

It's then that he realizes what he's spilled. "You're not even gonna ask, are you?"

"Wasn't gonna," Beth tells him. "If you wanted to share you would."

"Alice has Cystic Fibrosis," Dean spills it out anyways. "It's why she's so tiny. And because of it she can't fully digest food on her own so whenever she eats she has to take an enzyme pill to help."

"Oh," Beth nods, not sure what to say at first. Then she thinks back to a student she went to school with. "There was a girl in my class growing up that had that. Our parents were friends so I knew a little about it. Um, does it affect her lungs a lot or…?"

"Luckily, no," Dean answers. "She's heavy on the digestive issues, which is the lesser of two evils if you ask me. She does have some congestion sometimes and her sinuses have been problematic this year which worries me but so far she's doing a lot better than most kids her age."

"Is this why she's in my dance class?" Beth takes a wild guess. "For the exercise?"

Dean is taken aback by her knowledge on the issue. "Yeah, actually. Ah, I made the mistake of telling my brother that exercise would be good for keeping her lungs healthy over time and he put a bug in her ear about dance classes when he found a way to get her active. He's concerned about her, has been since she was born."

"He's a good brother then…."

"Hi you two," a waitress greets them. "Dean, how are you sweetie?"

"I'm good, Ruth," Dean returns to the familiar server. "How you doing today? Oh, you talk to that son of yours? Give him my card?"

"Of course I did," she says with obviousness. "He's supposed to call you soon. Can't wait until he gets his butt back to Lawrence and I get those grand babies back. He don't call you in another few days I'm gonna whip his butt."

Dean laughs with her animated ways. "I'll be on the lookout for that."

"Your usual when your daughter isn't around?"

"You know it." Dean winks at her.

"And you, honey?" Ruth asks, looking at the woman across from his regular.

"A cobb salad and a diet Coke, please," Beth answers.

Ruth peers at Dean for a moment. "Cute and polite. Don't you mess this up…"

"Leave me alone, Ruth," Dean says lightly with a soft smile.

Ruth pats his shoulder and walks away with a knowing smirk.

"Sorry about the whole… downer, medical talk before," Dean feels the need to apologize when Ruth is gone. "Not exactly first date opener material."

"So this _is_ a date?" Beth asks with a bright smile.

Dean just looks at her with a hesitant face. "I was kinda hoping."

"Then… a date it is," she says back, reassuringly. "I was kinda hoping that's what this was too… honestly." She then laughs with embarrassment. "And I haven't been on a date in so long that I apologize ahead of time for anything embarrassing or awkward I might do… or say…." Beth sighs, already embarrassed by what she just said.

"_Really_?" Dean asks her with surprise. "Dry spell?"

"More like drought," Beth tells him. "I was hyper-focused on my business since I opened it."

"Wasn't that three years ago?"

"Ha, yes it was," Beth answers, giving away how boring her love life has been. "Really know how to waste those crucial, you're only young once years, don't I?"

"You're not the only one," Dean laughs quietly. "Al was born when I was twenty-three. I've spent more time changing diapers and watching Yo Gabba Gabba than I have drinking and partying. Or dating for that matter."

"So, if you don't mind me asking," Beth starts, playing with the corner of her napkin. "How long has it been since you went on a date yourself?"

"Jesus," Dean thinks back on it. "Well, I went on a few dates with Cassie before she got pregnant, if that counts?"

"Cassie is Alice's mother?"

"Yes."

"Well then… I'm thinking you have me beat since Alice is nearly five."

Dean nods and closes his eye. "Wow. That's just… sad." He laughs a little when he realizes how long he's been date-free.

"At least I feel better now," Beth jokes.

"Awesome. And I feel worse," Dean keeps laughing.

Ruth stops by to place a Coke in front of Beth and a coffee in front of Dean.

"Thanks, Ruth," Dean says to her.

"See," Ruth looks to Beth and points at Dean. "He's polite too." She winks and Beth laughs.

"I think I need to rethink my future date spots for us, huh?" Dean jokes a little without seeing the gravity of his words.

Beth doesn't miss it. Future dates spots. Shit. He _really_ likes her.

A slightly uncomfortable silence descends on them and Beth sighs, looking over to her date and getting a glimpse of his eyes as he looks out the side window to the street. The midday sun lights his irises up even brighter than usual and she pauses, inhaling quietly. He's truly beautiful.

"So," she starts, looking to keep the conversation going as it had been easier before the sudden quiet. "Does your whole family live around here or just Sam?"

"We're all here," Dean says, looking back to her and seeing the hopeful and still slightly nervous look on her face. She wasn't kidding. This is a first in a long time for her too. "I've been in Lawrence since the day I was born. My parents still live in the house we grew up in."

"That's kinda nice," Beth smiles, feeling that deep pang of jealousy over that.

"It is. You know, dad's been a hard ass our whole lives but me and Sam, we grew up right so I guess it was worth it."

"I don't think that trait rubbed off on you, though," Beth grins knowingly, having seen him with his daughter enough to know he's no hard ass.

"Not at all," Dean huffs a bit. "Al's definitely got that whole wrapped around her finger thing going on with me."

"But it so cute," Beth admits with a bright smile. "I mean, the way she looks at you… Dean, you're her hero. Alice loves her Daddy so damn much. I see enough kids with their parents to know you have something special with that little girl."

Dean nods and can't stop the cheek-breaking smile on his face with that. "I love that kid so much. She's… just, she's all I have and I wouldn't ever want to change that. She's my girl."

"Well, it being just the two of you for a while would make that happen I guess," Beth starts to logic. "But she seems like a daddy's girl from the jump type."

"Absolutely," Dean nods, smile still lighting up his face. "It's always been us, you know. She's my world."

And Beth has officially melted completely for this man sitting across from her.

"Ok, where's the catch?" Beth blurts out and folds her hands onto the Formica table top.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks with sheer confusion.

"Dean, come on. What are you, secretly like Dexter? A family man that kills in his free time?" Beth jokes and Dean chuckles nervously. "You're so sweet from what I've seen, you're clearly a family man, you have a job and you don't seem insane or anything… how are you not taken already?"

Dean opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. "Uh…."

When he grows silent again they both laugh with the uncomfortable moment.

"I'm sorry," Beth says, covering her face with her hands. "I didn't mean to totally do that to you."

"Well, it was very flattering, if that counts for anything," Dean starts, having been honestly boosted by the comment. "And you did already apologize for being awkward so you're covered."

"Great," Beth says with a red face as she gives him a thumbs up quickly.

"And I'm not a serial killer, I promise," Dean tells her, raising his right and swearing to it.

"Isn't that what a serial killer would say?"

"Probably, but I'm speaking the truth."

"Even better," Beth laughs out.

"Here you go, kids," Ruth says, dropping a plate in front of each of them before quickly disappearing, leaving them be as they seem to be getting along just fine from where she's been eaves dropping.

Beth picks up her fork and takes a bite, making herself shut up for a moment so she can gather herself. No more making an ass out of herself. Think before speaking, Beth, come on!

"I've been too focused on my daughter," Dean says to her, answering why he's single. "When Cassie died… we weren't good. We had plenty of problems and were probably heading towards a break up. But once she was gone? All I wanted was to make sure Al had a good life still. I can't be a mother, I can only be dad and I know it's not the same, but… I have to be careful. I can't just let any woman into my life."

Beth nods, understanding that. "Alice comes first. She should."

Dean smiles down to his plate that he hasn't even touched yet. She gets it. Beth understands that Alice will always be his number one woman in his life… and she's accepting of that. Maybe this girl is even better than he'd hoped she'd be.

"I have to know that whoever I'm with gets that," Dean tells her, looking right into her eyes. "Alice definitely does come first. My other relationships will come second. And I will not let her know anything until I am sure that whatever relationship I find is a solid one. Not having Alice get used to someone and liking someone only to take them away from her. She already lost one woman in her life. I'm not letting that happen again."

Beth drops her fork with this and reaches across the table. She places her hand atop Dean's and looks him hard in the eye. "You're a wonderful father. Alice is lucky to have you."

Dean smirks a little, shocked that she's on the same page as him already.

"And even if you just got real deep on me on a first date… one bite into lunch and all," Beth says, trying to assure him. "I hear you loud and clear. And I still want hang out with you more. I think I'll do alright if you give me a chance."

She squeezes his hand once and pulls hers back, retaking her fork to continue eating.

Dean's never felt more relieved in is life. She passed the test. She understands where he's coming from somehow and still wants to see more of him, even if she now knows she'll never equal his love for his daughter.

He watches her eat a little before picking up his burger, taking a big bite.

"So why is this your usual when Alice isn't around?" Beth pries, remembering what Ruth said when they ordered.

"Mm," Dean nods and wipes his mouth with his paper napkin. "I'm trying to teach her not to eat the crap that I love to eat. When she's around it's chicken and veggies and fruit. When she's not… it's bacon cheeseburgers all the way."

Beth laughs at that. "Thoughtful."

"I thought so," Dean says. "Plus, with her CF she needs to live as healthy as possible."

Beth stays quiet and eats a bit of her salad. He's worried about Alice. He's always worried about her.

She pulls out of her thoughts when Dean groans with love.

"Good?" she jokes a bit.

"The best burger in town," he answers with a mouthful. "Annie's bacon cheeseburger crushes everyone else's."

"Well…" Beth rebuts and drags off.

"Bite your tongue!" Dean jokes with her when she starts to say he's wrong.

"Have you been to The Burger Stand?" she asks, and eyebrow cocked in challenge.

"No," Dean says, holding out his sandwich to her. "But you can't judge until you try this."

Nodding as he makes a good point, Beth leans across the table and sinks her teeth into the proffered burger. She chews for a moment before speaking her verdict, Dean looking at her with huge curiosity.

"Very good," she admits and he smirks. "But not as good as The Burger Stand."

"What!?" Dean says with shock. "How is there any burger better than this?"

"The Smoke Burger will shock you," Beth tells him. "Trust me. Even their hot dogs are good."

"Oh God, Al's obsessed with hot dogs," Dean rolls his eyes.

"Isn't every kid?" Beth laughs, diving back into her salad.

"Maybe," Dean shrugs as he takes another bite. "But I have to keep her away. She'd eat them every day if she could. The sodium is fine for her because she's usually low on it and all but still… _not_ healthy."

"Well, when she's had a nice break from her last allowed hot dog then I'm bringing you guys there," Beth says easily, as if this was something common between them yet this is the first date they've ever had. She's planning ahead without thinking. "I mean… if that's something you'd, you know, ever want…."

Dean laughs a bit and finishes his bite. "And here I was thinking I was being presumptuous mentioning future dates. You're already including my daughter."

Beth sighs. "I'm sorry if that was weird of me but it's just… it's strange. As nervous as I am because I haven't really been on a date or even thought about dating in so long… I'm oddly comfortable being around you."

Dean hears this one. "I feel the same way. About you. It's like I've known you for a while even if I know nothing at all about you."

"Well, what do you want to know?" Beth asks, knowing she's leaving herself wide open.

"Uh… well, you know about my family. What about yours?"

Dean takes a bite and peers at her like he didn't ask the worst question possible. Knowing it was probably going to come up she sighs and pushes some salad around her plate.

"I grew up in Ohio," she starts to explain. "It was just me and my parents."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"Nope."

"And what made you move to Lawrence of all places?"

"Honestly? I threw a dart at a US map and said… what the hell?"

"Seriously?" Dean asks, eyes wide on her.

"Yeah."

"Why would you just up and leave like that?" he has to wonder. "Don't you miss seeing your family?"

Swallowing hard, Beth answers him. "I miss them every single day."

Dean picks up on the change in Beth's tone. When he looks at her she isn't smiling for the first time since he arrived late.

"Beth?" he questions, putting his sandwich down.

"My parents passed away four years ago," Beth lets it out. "After that I just… ran."

Stupid Dean! He shouldn't have asked! Stupid! "I'm sorry, Beth… you don't have to say anything…"

"It's fine," she forces a smile. "It's not easy but it's my story. I'm not trying to hide it. They were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from a family friend's New Year's party. Mom died instantly. Dad was in a coma for a few weeks but never woke up. After that… I couldn't stay."

Dean wants nothing more than to hug her right now. She looks small suddenly, vulnerable in a way that he doesn't like. She looks alone and a person like her should never be alone.

"My best friend is still there, working as a high up accountant for a huge firm in Cleveland. I was supposed to see her this weekend but she cancelled. Work called." She bites her bottom lip. "I knew when I moved that I was being completely crazy. I knew no one around here, I had no family, no clue what the city was even about… but it didn't matter. Lawrence wasn't home. I needed to get out so I could move on."

"That logic makes sense to me," Dean admits. It isn't how he'd handle it but he can see how it was an option for someone else.

"Luckily, I somehow landed on my feet. With the inheritance I received I opened the studio and threw myself headfirst into running it. It's been successful already, shockingly, so it was worth it. I do miss Lou though."

"The best friend?"

"Yes. She's my rock," Beth laughs a little. "She's more like a sister to me. Without her… there was no getting past my parents passing away. She called me every day that first year I moved. I owe her so much."

"So you still have some family," Dean sums up.

"Yeah," Beth smiles with that.

"That's good that you have that," Dean nods. "Lord knows I'd never have gotten past the shock of being a single parent without my brother."

"He's your best friend?"

"Definitely," Dean tells her, picking up his burger again to keep eating. "It's been Sammy and me our whole lives."

"He seems very nice," she admits. "And he certainly has his own great connection to Alice."

"You have no idea," Dean says with almost exhaustion. "Those two have some weirdo thing between them that no one else gets. I mean, who has inside jokes with a four year old?"

Beth laughs at that, happy to have moved on from her own family as a topic of conversation. "Well, I know the moms liked him. They couldn't stop talking about him after he left."

"He's a freakin' lawyer," Dean says around a bite of burger. "And a good one. His job is to talk people into liking and trusting him. He probably had them eating outta the palm of his hand."

"He left a serious impression on them, definitely," Beth grins. "You two have been the buzz of the dance moms, trust me."

"The _two_ of us?" Dean wonders, eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Yeah…." Beth says and takes a deep breath. "They've been, kinda… trying to finagle a way to get us together. They're convinced I am in serious need of a man and you seem like a catch so… why not, right? They have way too much time on their hands."

"Are you in serious need of a man?" Dean smirks hard and looks right at her, suddenly feeling like the flirty guy he used to be way back when once he's calmed down and gotten comfortable with her.

Beth grins wide. "Maybe," she giggles a little, the sound suddenly so sexy to him. "But I have requirements."

"Which are?"

"Well, if I am gonna date someone he has to be sweet. And a little nervous at first because I will be too," Beth starts, knowing she's being way more flirtatious than she's ever been before. This guy just makes her want to be the flirty, confident girl. "And he has to be a family-oriented person with at least the potential to be a really great father… if he isn't one already."

"Ok, I'm doing alright so far," Dean grins when he knows she's just describing him.

"He also has to be at least six feet tall, have really nice green eyes… and a smudge of ketchup on his cheek."

She smirks as he quickly grabs his napkin to wipe his face.

"How long was it there?" Dean asks of her.

"Not long," she laughs.

Dean finishes wiping his cheek and puts down his napkin.

"So I passed the test?" he asks her, hoping they're on the same pager even if he's pretty sure they are.

"Yes, but I think your test is the much harder one to pass," Beth points out and looks at him with a hopeful look. "I'm trying to impress two people."

"You're doing just fine, Beth."

* * *

"Ok, I wasn't even hungry but this is _so_ good," Beth says as she polishes off the scoop of Death By Chocolate ice cream they ordered at the shop across the street from the diner.

"So awesome," Dean concurs as they sit on a sidewalk bench together, his own scoop of Oreo already gone.

"I'm glad you mentioned the place. Over three years and I've never been there before."

"I have a child. I know every great ice cream spot in this town."

"Touché," Beth answers back. Dean takes her empty paper cup and plastic spoon and walks to the trash can a few feet away to throw them out.

"Shit, I gotta go pick Al up," he says when he looks at his watch. It's already almost three.

"Damn, this afternoon flew," Beth tells him as she stands up to join him.

"I'll walk you to your car," Dean says with a grin.

"Ok," Beth answers, her huge smile out and bright.

They make their way silently as they all but talked for the two and a half hours they spent together. Beth can feel in her stomach the fluttering of just how much she's liking him already. Judging by the way he places his hand on her lower back when they cross the street she's thinking that he's feeling a similar way. At least she really, _really_ hopes so.

When they get to her car in the small lot for the diner, Beth takes her keys out and looks up at Dean. His eyes are trained on her car.

"Holy shit," he says under his breath as he looks over the vehicle. "You have a Challenger?"

"Hell yeah," Beth smiles wide. "It's what I bought myself when I made some real money with my business."

"Jesus," he awes before shifting his shocked sights back to her. "This car is amazing."

"I like it," she grins with pride, loving her car and loving that he's clearly impressed.

"You should. And I so didn't picture you as a muscle car person."

"I'm just full of surprises, Dean," she jests back.

"Yeah… you are," Dean smirks, and looks around the lot with slight embarrassment.

"So… I had a lot of fun," she tells him the truth. "And I like hanging out with you."

"That's good," Dean says right back, being a little bolder and reaching out to take her hand in his. "Because I really like you, Beth."

Beth just lets out a nervous giggle and bites her lip, still somewhat shocked over how well the day went.

"I like you too," she admits while looking at her shoes.

She's completely caught off guard when she feels fingers lifting up her chin. She only has a second to lock eyes with him before he leans in and presses his lips to hers. It's so gentile, so very sweet, and her heart skips with the moment.

And Dean's even shocked himself with this move. He's been certain that he would never move too fast with another woman after Cassie and especially not now that he has a little girl… but he can't help it. There's something about this woman and if this simple little kiss is any indication of what could be then Dean's heart is beating a mile a minute for a reason.

After just a few seconds Dean pulls his lips away and Beth lifts her lids slowly to look at him.

"I want to see you again."

Beth just nods at first, still too lost in the fact that his perfect lips just touched hers.

"Can I call you this weekend?" Dean asks, keeping it slightly formal still.

"I'd love that," Beth admits as she blinks up at him. This is so not happening.

"Then I'll talk to you soon," Dean says, pushing his luck and kissing her one more time, the embrace still new and slow.

When he pulls away from her he heads straight for his car. Beth is left standing there watching him go, not ready to move on with her day.

She needs to call Lou tonight.


	4. Tiny Dancer (Part 3)

"I didn't even see it coming at all!" Beth spills the ending of her day with Dean as she sits on her cozy couch just like she does every single Wednesday night. "And he was just so sweet. He kissed me and it was… I don't know, just…"

"Oh Jesus," Lou says and Beth can hear her roll her eyes from Ohio.

"Stop it!" Beth says. "Lou, this shit doesn't ever happen to me. I'm not the girl that gets the hot guy."

"Because you're a fucking wallflower," Lou points out. "You never put yourself out there. Beth, you're gorgeous and you're, like, the nicest person I've ever met. Don't play this game."

"It's not a game, Louise. It's life," she points out. "It's my track record."

"Fuck your track record. You're the catch here, dumbass. He's the lucky one."

"You say that because you haven't seen him yet," Beth shakes her head. "He's beyond hot. I mean, makes my teeth sweat kind of hot."

"I shall repeat myself then… pictures or he isn't real!"

"Just think Brad Pitt but hotter and that should do it."

"Bull fucking shit you lying bitch! Do not tarnish the Pitt," Lou immediately yells, making Beth pull the phone away from her ear. "And that's just not even possible."

"It is," Beth assures her. "Actually…"

She gets an idea. She opens her laptop and starts a Google search.

"Actually what?"

"Give me one second."

She types in 'Dean Winchester real estate Lawrence' and easily the website for Stephen's Realty Group comes up with a link to the realtor's page.

"I got him," Beth announces and opens the page. There it is. A company picture of Dean looks right back at her. He has a blazer on as is protocol and the picture is quite dorky, as is also protocol, but it's definitely him, charming smile, bright green eyes and all.

"You got him?" Lou asks.

"Yep," Beth returns with, copying the link and pasting it into an email to her best friend. She presses send. "Check your email."

"Aw, I have to get up?" Lou complains.

"Hey! You're the one that wanted to see the guy."

"Fine!" Lou says stubbornly, making Beth smile. She knew her best friend would get up for her, even though she's notoriously lazy once work is over.

Beth listens to her move around and grab her iPad.

"He's in real estate?" Lou asks when she reads the link.

"I took a wild guess," Beth admits, having easily pieced it together.

"Oh my God!" Lou shouts into the phone. "_No_!"

"I take it you opened the page."

"Yes! Holy hot men, this guy is _not_ a real person!"

"He's real," Beth smirks, looking down at his picture also. Her heart pumps a little faster when she does. "And the crazy part is that he's not an asshole and he looks like that."

"If I looked like that I would totally be an asshole," Lou admits.

"He's just really sweet and very endearing. He loves his daughter so much… that's got to be a good sign, right?"

"Yeah, but having an ex-wife isn't… you sure you want to deal with that?"

"Well, he doesn't have an ex-wife," Beth explains. "It was his girlfriend."

"Oh, right, because dealing with a crazy ex-girlfriend is just a walk in the park…"

"No, it's not like that," Beth tries to explain. "Alice's mom passed away a couple years ago."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And now I know you don't always listen to me when I talk to you…"

"They never got married?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't ask such a personal question on our first fucking date."

"Oh boy, you better get that story!" Lou warns.

"Yeah, well, if he doesn't get sick of me soon enough then I will," Beth answers back. "A guy like that… he could have any chick he wanted."

"And right now he wants you, you dummy," Lou calls her out. "You're hot. You're nice. And best of all, he likes how you treat his daughter. You're in."

"I guess…"

"And you're cool with the kid thing?" Lou has to ask.

"Yes, I am totally fine with it," Beth answers back.

"I wouldn't be."

"That's because you're a shitty person."

"Hey, call me old fashioned but I want my kid to come out of my vagina, alright?"

"And that's exactly what makes you a shitty person… and your way with words is so beautiful, Louise."

"Don't call me that, bitch."

"I won't if you don't act like asshole," Beth laughs quickly. "And Alice is just a sweetheart. I've had her for three classes and she's a really great kid. Kinda hard not to love her."

"Whatever floats your boat, sis."

"_And…_ we've been on _one_ date. Stop planning my future for me."

"Will do," Lou agrees to the terms. "I do have one request though."

"What's that?"

"You sleep with that man once before you go and fuck this up," Lou says with determination. "And then you call me and tell me everything about it."

"Oh yeah, it'll be awesome," Beth laughs. "I haven't had sex in two years and he hasn't in probably just as long. What a pair we're gonna make."

"What!?" Lou shouts. "I knew about you but this guy, the smoking hot hottie on my computer, hasn't has sex in _years_?"

"I could be wrong but that's the way he made it sound."

"What is _wrong_ with this world!? Injustice!"

"Injustice or not, he's calling me this weekend," Beth laughs hardily. "I'm hoping we get more time together."

"In bed, right?"

"No," Beth sternly says back. "I would like to figure him out more. Learn who he is… I'm not jumping into bed with him that fast."

"Why, because you like him?"

"That's exactly why!"

"Whatever," Lou gets annoyed. "Just call me when you get home from the date or I'll kill you."

"You'd actually have to visit me to kill me."

"Shit, true."

"Goodnight, Lou," Beth rolls her eyes. "Love you."

"Love you too," Lou says and hangs up.

* * *

"Did you call her yet?" Sam questions without looking up from the puppy he's currently coloring purple in the coloring book he's been handed.

"Nah, not yet," Dean answers him, also not looking up from the picture of a prince he's coloring in the book designated to him by his daughter.

"It's Friday. What the he… what are you waiting for?" Sam corrects himself halfway through for the small ears in the room that retain everything these days while looking across the table in Dean's kitchen.

"I don't know," Dean shrugs, reaching for a blue crayon. "I will."

"Didn't you want to… do something tomorrow night with her? We can take the princess for the night."

"I don't want to put you and Madison out…"

"You wouldn't be," Sam assures his brother. "We love the princess."

"Who's the princess?" Alice asks, her tongue hanging out her mouth as she concentrates on coloring the princess' dress on her own coloring page the perfect shade of pink.

"You, honey," Sam explains to her. "You want to come hang out with Madison and me tomorrow night?"

"Can we eat pizza like last time?" she asks with a little bit of home.

"Sure," Sam shrugs. "But only if you've been eating healthy this week."

"I have," Alice answers easily.

"Has she?" Sam of course checks with Dean.

"Ah, yeah," he nods. "We ate really good this week."

"Then definitely," Sam turns back to Alice. "You're coming over my place for pizza Saturday night. It's a _date_!"

"Ok," Alice answers with a big smile. "Can Daddy come too?"

"No," Sam answers before Dean can cave like he knows he was going to and say yes. "Daddy's aren't allowed."

"Why not?" Alice complains.

"Because your Daddy is supposed to go visit his friend tomorrow night after he drops you off."

"Wow," Dean says with amazement as Sam sets up his night for him. "_Really_!?"

Sam just shares a shit-eating grin with his brother.

"Who's your friend, Daddy?" Alice asks with her big dark eyes on him and he panics. He's never dealt with this before.

He looks to Sam, hoping the answer man will come up with something since he has so far, but instead gets an equally curious face aimed right at him, his chin in his hand and elbow on the table top.

"I'm gonna kill you," Dean says in passing with a clenched jaw before turning to his daughter. "Just a new friend of mine. We might get dinner on our own while you and Sam and Madison have pizza since it's a no daddies allowed night."

"Oh, ok," Alice easily accepts and goes right back to coloring without a care in the world.

Dean relaxes a bit at this. How the hell does he think he's gonna keep this up? It'll only get harder in the future.

"Hey Dean, didn't you have a call to go make?"

With wide eyes Dean asks his brother what his fucking problem is.

"Go make that call, dude," Sam drives the point home. "Alice and I can hold down the fort."

"Yeah, we'll hold the fort down for you, Daddy," Alice assures as she reaches for the yellow crayon, not even sure what that really means.

"Go, Dean," Sam says, shooing his away with his hands. "We got this."

"We got this," Alice absently echoes her best friend and they sit and color, Sam still smirking the entire time as Dean walks to his bedroom down the hall.

Once he closes the door he paces the room a bit. He should call her. He hasn't talked to her since they parted ways Wednesday and he had such a great time with her. She was funny and so damn easy to talk to and he could just stare at her all day if given the chance. She's absolutely stunning, the first thing Sam mentioned to him after he met her when he picked Alice up from her dance class.

Maybe that's why this is so anxiety filled for him. He just plain liked her. It's like he's a damn teenager again, getting ready to ask out the hot girl in class.

No, you are an adult, Dean, he thinks to himself. Just call her. He wants to see her again, even if running to the comfort of dinner with his brother and daughter sounds just too good instead. No, he wants to see her. He kissed her even, something he hadn't even seen coming.

If he can kiss the first girl he's dated or, well, _kissed_ in years then he can certainly give her a call.

Dean sits on the end of his queen bed and finds the name Beth stowed in his contacts. Deep breath taken, he presses send. The phone rings twice and he almost hangs up. Why the fuck is he so nervous!? He used to be so good at this!

"Hello?"

"H-hi… Beth. It's Dean… Winchester." Fucking idiot. How many Deans could she possibly know that said they'd call her this week?

"Hi!" she answer back, her voice up higher than it normally is. Maybe he isn't the only nervous one. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Just hanging out with my hot date this Friday night."

"Alice I assume?" she asks with a clear smile from the other end of the phone.

"And Sam of course," Dean tells her and she laughs. It's the light, effortless one that doesn't sound forced at all. Instead it's actually kind of hot.

"Well that sounds like a lovely night," Beth says right back. "I'm spending mine with my DVR so you win."

"Anything good?"

"Um, well I'm pretty insanely obsessed with The Walking Dead right now and I have a couple episodes to catch up on. Have you seen it?"

"Have I seen it!?" Dean repeats with an obvious yes. "I _love_ that show."

"Oh my God, it's so damn good, isn't it!?" she says with excitement. "I love zombies!"

"Best movie monster ever made."

"I totally agree!" she says with sheer glee. "I loved the comics and was so psyched they came out with this show based off of them. They're doing an excellent job with it. Totally the right feel and everything."

"Comic books?" Dean asks with sheer surprise.

"Yeah, you didn't know it was based off a comic book series?"

"No, I did… I just had no idea you were into comic books."

"Oh… right…" Beth answers back as she just now caught onto the slip. "Well, I'm not much of a traditional comic book reader per say. I stick with the graphic novel style mostly."

"I had no idea you were kind of a nerd."

"Oh, there's plenty you don't know about me, Dean." Beth tells him in that once more light, airy laughter.

"Yeah, well, I want to know," Dean tells her, the honesty pouring out of him far too easily for the guarded man he's become for a few years now. "Which is why I'm calling. It looks like my daughter has some plans tomorrow night with my brother and his girlfriend so that leaves me free."

"Really?"

He does not miss the interested and flirty tone she suddenly gives him.

"Really. I was wondering if you'd like to do something with me… maybe dinner?"

"I would love to have dinner with you."

"Awesome," Dean smiles so hard his mouth hurts a little.

"Any ideas where?"

"Oh, uh… you know, I hadn't thought of that yet but I'll come up with something."

"Fine by me."

"Anything you don't like?"

"Um… honestly, no. I like most food."

"We have that in common then," Dean answers back.

"Dean, I'm really glad you called," Beth says to him with more honesty than he was ready for. He's starting to see that she does that, speaks her feelings in the most blunt way she can blurt them out. "I had a great time talking to you the other day and… I don't know. I guess I have a good feeling about you."

"Ok, so… I'm not used to being that honest and just speaking my mind so you might have to be more patient with me," Dean huffs an awkward laugh.

"Yeah, Lou tells me I should hold back more often…"

"No! Don't do that," Dean denies the idea quickly. "I like that you do that. I never have to guess where I stand with you. I'm just saying don't expect the same from me right away."

"So you're saying I have to worry about where I stand with you instead?" Beth sums up in a light tone. "Seems fair."

And there's that giggle again, the sound that's just so… well, sexy.

"From what I can see you don't have to worry much about that either but I'll do my best to tell you."

"Well, ok."

"Ok," Dean grins right back.

That old, familiar dead silence takes over for a few seconds once more.

"Should I let you get back to your date?" Beth asks, making sure she isn't keeping him from his family too much.

"Oh, um… We were just coloring. Nothing too exciting."

"Oh man! I used to love coloring," she tells him with total fondness.

"With how much I'm forced into doing I'm not on your side with that one," Dean huffs a laugh.

"Well, Daddy, don't let me keep you then," Beth offers him a way out to spend time with his daughter. "And I will see you tomorrow night."

"That sounds good." Dean really thinks it does.

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Beth."

Dean ends the call and stares at his phone a second. Was it him or was she truly excited to go grab yet more food with him? He had no idea that a father of one was still actually a wanted and desirable thing but hey, it seems to be working.

And now he actually looks forward to tomorrow night instead of dread it. He can spend some time with a different girl just this once.

* * *

"I'm actually nervous," Dean admits to his brother and best friend as he stands in the front foyer of Sam's house Saturday night, watching Madison set Alice up in the kitchen down the hall, ready to make dinner.

"Dude, calm down," Sam nearly laughs as he recalls the confident younger man Dean used to be, taking home chicks left and right and schmoozing his way through all of cute Lawrence. "Remember the old days…"

"This ain't the old days," Dean assures.

"Thank God!" Sam laughs, having hated Dean's behavior back then. He had many a brotherly talk with Dean about his dishing chicks but it took Alice to get him to stop. "Glad that's over."

"Shut up," Dean says with sheer annoyance. "And she's different than _those_ chicks."

"What, she's not a slut?"

"Sam!" Dean gets mad instantly with the label before thinking about it. "Well, yeah… exactly."

"So this is easy," Sam says to him with a hand clapping down on Dean's shoulder. "Just don't treat her like a slut."

Dean shrugs out of Sam's hold.

"I'm serious. Just be nice. Be yourself. Calm the fuck down," Sam whispers the last part to keep the language well out of little girl ear range. "Believe it or not you turned out to be a pretty good guy…"

"So your way to calm me down is to partially insult me before I go out on my first real date in like _ever_!?" Dean starts to just plain get angry.

"Sorry, look… just do what you did the other day. Talk. Find out more about her. I mean there's gotta be a reason you liked her so much in the first place so go figure out why."

"Well I know why…" Dean trails off, adjusting his white button down he didn't tuck in. Should he tuck it in? Nah, that looks like he's trying too hard… and it's dorky.

"You do?" Sam asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Well, yeah," Dean admits, looking up at his brother. "She's… good with Alice."

"So am I," Sam points out with a large grin. "You gonna take me to dinner now too?"

"Ew, gross," Dean comments. "Beth is… she's kind. She's very sweet, like she's not some jaded jackass that's seen too much… even if she has. And she's beautiful."

"Well that part's easy," Sam laughs a little and leans against the wall of the hallway by the front door.

"Yeah. She's just gorgeous. I mean, you've seen her."

"Hottie," Sam confirms.

"Definitely," Dean answers and then sighs a bit. "I don't know, I just feel good around her. It's weird. She makes me laugh. She's funny and, and… I don't know. I just know I want to be around her. That's gotta mean something, right?"

"Yes," Sam grins wide, happy to hear his younger brother finally speak this way after years of isolation. "Now go pick her up before you're late and look like an ass."

"Being late makes me look like an ass?" Dean wonders.

"Um, yeah."

"Then I better go because I'm already an ass from our first date," Dean responds and looks down the hallway. "Al! Come here a second."

The little girl runs down the hallway to meet her dad like he asked and Dean crouched to the floor to be at her level.

"Alright, you listen to Uncle Sammy and Madison, ok? No complaints." He holds her face gently and makes sure she's listening

"Yes, Daddy."

"And I'll come get you later after I'm done with dinner."

"Ok," Alice answers, hugging him tight around the neck.

"I love you, babycakes."

"I love you too, Daddy," Alice responds without even thinking. The phrase still melts Dean's heart every damn time he hears it.

"Have fun," Dean tells her when she ends the hug and he kisses her forehead. Dean stands up and watches his girl run back to the kitchen with excitement.

"Good luck," Sam says as he nearly pushes his brother out the front door to be on his way.

"Thanks," Dean says, looking over his shoulder one last time at his daughter as he beats off the urge to stay with her. He barely ever leaves her like this. He can't remember the last time he did. He's going to miss her.

But he needs to get to know another girl so he sucks it up and leaves.

* * *

"Don't you clean up nicely," Beth says as she opens the front door to her apartment building, finding Dean standing at the top of the steps waiting for her.

"I do what I can," Dean smiles and looks her over once. Tight, dark jeans with bright red heels catch his attention first. She has a great ass and her legs are long and so toned he can even tell how good they are through the denim fabric. She has a tight red tank on with a black, cotton blazer on over it, just a hint of cleavage showing. Her hair is long and down with a slight wave, her bangs nearly covering her right eye, and she has on just enough makeup to look like she tried but didn't try too hard. She's stunning. "You… y-you look amazing."

"Yeah?" Beth grins and turns around once jokingly.

"Yes, absolutely," Dean confirms, not joking at all.

"That's very sweet of you." Her eyes light up as she looks up at him. He's being honest, she can tell. It's almost insane to think that a guy that looks the way he does can look at her and think she's anything special but hey, she'll take it. "I hope I didn't dress up too much or not enough…"

"You're right where you need to be," Dean assures her.

"Ok, good, because since you refused to tell me where we're going I was in the dark."

"Don't worry about it. You look great," he says to her as he walks to his car parked in the apartment lot, unlocking the passenger door for her first.

"What… are you kidding me?" she asks as she looks over the sleek black paint of the car in front of her.

"No…" Dean starts to say with confusion until he watches her run her hand over the paint of his car.

"You were driving an SUV Wednesday," she says with still running shock. "This is _no_ SUV."

"Ah, no…" Dean laughs. "This is…"

"A classic Chevrolet Impala," Beth answers for him, knowing exactly what she's looking at. "1967, right?"

"Yes," Dean answers her with delighted surprise.

"My God, this thing is mint," she observes, looking the vehicle over. "You brought this just to impress me, didn't you?"

"Well, ah… yeah," Dean says, working slowly but surely on the honesty thing. "Plus, Alice isn't with me. I don't like driving her around in an airbag-less car."

"But these old cars are tanks. Made of pure metal. You can't kill them."

"You know something about cars, don't you?" Dean has to ask her, still standing there with the door open for her as she admires his car.

"A little," she admits. "My dad had an old Mustang he stored in a shed out in our backyard growing up. He used to take her out only in the summer. It was a 1964 in a beautiful blue shade…"

"Guardsman Blue," Dean says knowingly. "Best color after black for a classic."

"Damn straight," she easily agrees. "I convinced him to let me drive it a few times but only a few. Dad was a little protective."

"I can understand."

Beth smiles at him pleasantly before walking to the waiting open door. "She's beautiful."

"Glad you appreciate her," Dean answers back as she stands in front of him, the open door between them. "Not sure this could work if you didn't."

Beth laughs and ducks into the passenger seat. Dean shuts the door for her and walks to his side, smiling like an idiot for choosing to bring his prized possession.

* * *

"So, you like food I'm starting to think," Beth jokes at the end of their meal, looking at him as he polishes off the last bite on his plate.

"Little bit," Dean jests as he finishes his bite and puts down his fork. Their night has been quite nice yet again. They talked about their families growing up, Beth's crazy best friend, their high school years, their mutual disappointment in the Chiefs beginning of the season, and Alice, of course.

"That's good though," Beth explains, having given up on the last of her own meal minutes ago out of being too full. "I love food."

"Then we'll get along just fine," Dean answers and tilts his glass of whiskey her way. Beth does the same with her wine and takes a sip.

"My mother used to cook every night," Beth tells him, finding it easy to open up about her deceased family to him for some reason. "I got so spoiled. Now I feel like there's nothing better than a really well made, home-cooked meal."

The way she smiles softly while thinking about her past makes Dean want to make it better for her now since she lost that.

"You don't cook?" he wonders.

"Well, technically I do," Beth tells him. "I'm not saying it comes out edible but I try."

He smiles wide at this. "Ah, bad cook."

"Very bad. I burn water."

Dean laughs again. His mind is forming a plan now, hoping he has the balls to make the offer he wants to. It might be too forward though…

"Do you cook?" Beth interrupts his thoughts.

"Yeah, I do. When Cassie died I kind of had to figure it out. Alice was already turning three in a few months at that point and it was either take-out every night or I figure it out."

"And are you as bad as I am?" she wonders, finishing off her second glass of Pinot Noir.

"I don't burn water," Dean says with a shit-eating grin.

"That's a start!"

"Um, I do alright," Dean tells her.

"A guy that can cook is impressive," Beth mentions before biting her lip and looking down. She gets so shy sometimes when she compliments him.

"What did your mom make for you?" Dean pries on, pulling more info from her.

"Oh, she liked to do…" she pauses as their plates are removed from the table. "Thank you. Um. She always made the classics in the winter and those were my favorite."

"Like?"

"Chicken pot pie was the best," she answers. "Just traditional, peas and carrots, flaky crust chicken pot pie. She kicked it in the ass every time with that one."

Dean huffs a laugh with her way with words as he stores the info away. "You know, um, I wouldn't mind making dinner for you sometime. Since you haven't had a real homemade meal in a while if I'm hearing you correctly."

Beth flashes her bright white smile when she can't hold it back anymore. "That would be really great, Dean."

Dean smiles down at his whiskey glass, taking the last gulp as the server of the nice restaurant hands him the check.

"Thanks," Dean says and pops his credit card into the black folder, handing it back.

"Next time, I'm paying by the way," Beth speaks up.

"Oh no, you're one of those?" Dean complains.

"One of what?" she questions, sitting up taller and looking slightly offended.

"One of those girls that gets all Wonder Woman by kind yet traditional gestures."

She eyes him over with narrowed lids. "No. I'm not one of those. I just know that you are supporting a child all on your own and I would like to not be the reason why her college fund is a little low."

"A couple meals won't do much damage to that," he tries to assure her

"And I hope it's not just a couple," Beth tells him. There goes her honesty again. "So next time, I pay."

"How about this," Dean starts to make a proposal. "I paid for dinner so you can pay for one more dink at the bar. I'm not ready to go just yet."

"Only one though," Beth stipulates. "I'm not a big drinker and I've already had two glasses. That's normally my limit and I'd like to not be a jackass in front of you just yet."

"Fair enough," Dean laughs. He signs their receipt when he gets it returned and stands up, holding his hand out to her.

Beth takes it and stands. He surprises her when he doesn't let go as they head for the bar.

"Hi, Miss Beth," a sing-song voice calls out and she immediately cringes before putting on a kind face and looking for the source of the voice.

"Hello, Colleen," Beth says warmly as the dance mother walks towards her. She quickly drops Dean's hand.

"How good to see you," she says in an over the top way, eyeing Dean over obviously as she hugs the dance teacher.

"Oh yeah. Just enjoying a dinner out," Beth says awkwardly and pulls away. She then gestures to Dean. "You remember Dean from Wednesday mornings, Alice's dad?"

"Of course I do," Colleen says with a Cheshire Cat grin.

"Good to see you too, Colleen," Dean bites out with a smile plastered to his face.

"Imagine my surprise at seeing you two here together."

"Subtle, Colleen. Real subtle," Beth calls her out.

"I'm just saying you look good together…"

"And I'm just saying I hope you enjoy your meal with your husband over there," Beth says obviously as she points to the man Colleen ditched the second she saw her. "We're going to the bar."

"Well then I'll see you Wednesday," Colleen winks, getting the hint, and returns to her table.

"Sorry," Beth winces when she looks back at Dean.

"Don't apologize for the crazy lady," he tells her, taking her hand again and making it the last few steps to the bar. "Just move past it." He holds out a bar stool for her with an over the top gesture due to their previous conversation.

"Chivalry isn't dead after all," Beth smirks and sits down, Dean taking the stool next to her. "And I think our little secret is out." She nods towards Colleen's table and Dean sees her glancing at them while speaking a mile a minute to her husband.

"Was it a secret?" Dean asks.

"Well, no…"

"You were keeping me a secret, weren't you?" Dean jokes on, feeling more and more comfortable with her the more he's around her. "You're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"Yeah, so you mind keeping it down a little? I have a reputation to uphold," she says before laughing. "No, I was not keeping you a secret. I was trying to protect you."

"From?"

"Gossipy and too nosy dance moms. You're screwed now."

"Shit," Dean says, having not thought about that. "You better get me that drink fast then."

* * *

"So, I'm thinking Saturday," Dean tells her as they walk hand-in-hand to the main entrance of Beth's apartment building.

"For?" she asks, her mind unable to focus on much the whole ride home. After the third glass of wine she's feeling pretty good and she couldn't help but continue to sneak glances at the beautiful man driving as they made their way back.

"Dinner," Dean reminds her. "I'm making you dinner?"

"Right!" Beth perks right back up when she's reminded. "That sounds amazing. Saturday it is."

Dean grins at her when they make it up the steps. He gets nervous all of a sudden. All through the date he'd been surprisingly relaxed around her but now, parting for the night, he's a ball of anxiety. He'd love nothing more than to revert to the old Dean, the manwhorish version of himself that would have no problem inviting himself upstairs to her apartment, but he can't do that. He has to pick Alice up first of all and second if he pushes this too fast and fucks it up he'll really regret it.

But damn it she's so beautiful standing there looking up at him.

Beth sighs. She doesn't want to end the night here either.

"You better pick up your daughter before she falls asleep," Beth says to him as she takes out her keys.

"You're right, I should," Dean nods and looks at her, really looks at her. His eyes drift to her lips without his permission. "Goodnight, Beth."

This is where Dean shuts down his nagging brain and actually goes for something scary for the first time in a long time. He ducks down and kisses her. And this isn't the same kiss they parted on last time either. He delves a little deeper, making the kiss last longer, mean more.

And Beth can't help but be grateful for that. Without thinking she brings her arms around his neck and keeps the kiss going. Hell, she never wants it to end. His lips move against hers with such promise, such sheer talent, that she doesn't even know what she's doing when she steps into him, her whole body against his. The wall of muscle that he is doesn't move an inch back so she knows he's feeling the same.

And Dean breaks. He pushes her backwards a bit, her back hitting the brick wall to the side of the front door of the building. When she slides her tongue into his mouth as he presses his entire front up against hers and pins her there, his mouth still on attack mode, he just wants more. God Damn it, he wants her so badly.

Just as Beth hums into his mouth a bit and presses her hips forward into his with sudden, coming-out-of-nowhere need, they get completely interrupted.

"Hello?"

They both hear the voice come on over the apartment intercom. Beth had leaned up against one of the buttons accidentally.

"Oh, sorry!" she apologizes after she pulls her mouth away from Dean's and turns around, seeing what she's done. "I hit your buzzer by accident! I'm so sorry!"

They can hear an older man grumble and then it goes silent. Beth turns back around and looks up at Dean with surprise.

"Ha, I so didn't see that coming," she admits, her cheeks flashing pink. She isn't talking about the intercom mishap.

"Neither did I," Dean says right back, a hand washing down his face in shock of how serious that got in such a short time. "I didn't mean to make that… I mean, I never wanted it to get like _that_…"

"No, I know," Beth smiles. "And don't apologize. I, uh… I just surprised myself there too. I never act like that."

Dean just looks at her a moment his eyes drifting back to her lips. He can feel himself being pulled to her again so he stops it right there. "I should head home."

"Yes, you should," Beth laughs. "You stay any longer after that and I can't be responsible for what I do."

Dean gets a good laugh out of that. "I know how you feel." He pauses, wanting to kiss her goodnight but not wanting it to return to that frenzied place. "Can I try that again?"

"Keep it simple," she warns with a bright grin, her hand landing on his cheek sweetly.

He leans down, his hands on her hips, and tries again, no hidden agenda like last time. This time he realizes ahead of time that he needs to keep his cool… no matter how sexy she is when she kisses.

He kisses her honestly, not trying to impress her or convey anything more than he just simply really, really likes her. He takes her top lip between his, moving slowly. Languidly, Dean swipes his tongue softly across her lip before ending it, taking his time pulling away.

"Goodnight, Beth," Dean says low, hitting her right in the core of her soul with the gravelly tone to it. She's never heard him sound like that before. Oh God, he _has_ to go home _now_.

"Please leave, Dean," Beth says with a grin that is purely sexy to him. It kills him to do so but he lets her go and backs away a step.

"I'm going," Dean tells her, hands up in surrender.

"As much as it kills me," Beth tells him, letting him know she's feeling about the same as he is right now.

Dean wags his finger at her and narrows his eyes. "I like you, Beth."

"I can tell!" she plays right back.

"I'll see you Wednesday morning," he tells her. "Coffee in hand."

"Can't wait."

With that Dean turns and walks away from her, every fiber in him screaming for him to turn around. Whatever the hell it is about her it's killing him. Her lips still have their feel imprinted on his and he walks to his car swiping his tongue across them once, tasting her lip gloss.

Beth watches as he gets into his car, leaning on the cold bricks of the building right where he had just had her pinned, this time avoiding the intercom. Yes, he's beautiful. Yes, he's extremely sweet. Yes, he's a father and a damn good one at that. But there's something more to him that she can't put a finger on (as much as she'd love to). Dean has got her hooked, absolutely.

He drives off, Beth waving once from her spot before she rushes inside. She needs to call Lou. _Now_.


	5. Tiny Dancer (Part 4)

Wednesday morning comes and Beth got to work early again. She hasn't seen Dean since their date but she has talked to him. She grew some balls and called him Sunday night as soon as The Walking Dead was done. She remembered he watched it and decided to discuss the episode with him as a rouse for just simply talking to him.

Now, with her makeup looking good and her hair done, she waits for the front door to open with anxiety. She's like her seventh grade self again in home room, waiting for her crush Rob Townsend to take his seat next to her so she could talk to him for just a few minutes.

And there it is, the sound of her studio door opening. Her heart jumps and then it plummets to her feet to see Colleen walk in with her daughter.

"Morning, Miss Beth," she says brightly while nearly running to her. "Sweetie, shoes on." She practically throws the girl's dance bag at her daughter and moves fast.

"Be nice, Colleen," Beth nearly begs when the woman stops in front of her.

"Oh my Lord, you have to be kidding me!" she says, ignoring Beth's request. "How amazing is he, seriously?"

"I am not discussing my outside relationships with you right now, especially with how new this is."

"Oh, come on, Beth," she complains. "My husband is ten years older than me, balding, and hasn't done anything sweet for me without me badgering him to since I was twenty. Let me live vicariously."

"All I can say is he's a really sweet man," Beth gives her a little something. "And… I really like him so I don't want to jinx anything here."

Colleen sighs. "Oh damn, he's as nice as he his hot, isn't he?"

"Sure is," they both hear a man say and Dean walks up next to Beth, interrupting the conversation with a wide, too smug smile.

"Morning, Dean," Colleen says, not at all ashamed for her words as she eyes him over.

"Good to see you again, Colleen," Dean says to her before looking at Beth. "And good morning to you." He hands over a fresh hot coffee for her.

"So sweet," she grins right back, fighting the urge to lean up and at least kiss him on the cheek but she holds back, her audience of Colleen and other filtering in mothers making her stop. Colleen gives her a smirk and walks away, giving them time.

"Yeah I am," Dean smirks jokingly, pulling Alice's ballet slippers out of his back pocket. "Al!"

The girl comes running, her new tutu bouncing as she runs.

"Thanks, Daddy," Alice says before looking up at her teacher. "Hi, Miss Beth!"

"Hi, kiddo," she grins wide. "I love the tutu."

"Thank you!" she says with huge excitement. "Madison gave it to me when I went to Uncle Sammy's house to make pizza."

"That's so nice of her," Beth says back.

"I really like her. She's Uncle Sammy's girlfriend and she's really nice to me. She says that they're gonna get married someday and I'm gonna be their flower girl but Madison wants to get married now and Uncle Sammy wants to wait. He said he doesn't see why they have to, um, move too fast… and Madison says three years isn't too fast."

"Wow!" Beth says with shock with all she just spilled.

"I want her to be my aunt so I told Uncle Sam he should marry her."

"Al, how do you know all that?" Dean has to ask his daughter, wide eyes on the small girl.

"They said it during dinner," she tells them simply enough. "I think they were talking like adults, like you and Uncle Sammy do sometimes, but I hear it. I have big girl ears now."

"You mean you listen in on when the adults are talking?" Dean narrows his eyes at her.

"Nooooo," Alice rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "I hear it when you say it if I'm right next to you, Daddy."

Alice skips away to be with her dance friends and leaves Dean and Beth standing there in shock.

"You gotta be careful around her," Beth says with a nervous laugh.

"No kidding," Dean responds, looking at his little sponge with serious worry.

"Hey, um, I'm gonna start class in a minute but are you around this afternoon?" Beth questions. "I was hoping we could grab lunch or something."

The hopeful way she looks up at him make him smile.

"Yeah, I can do that," Dean nods.

"You want to meet me at my place?" she asks with clear nervousness. "I can make something."

"You told me you couldn't cook."

"I can put together a sandwich or two," she grins.

"I can be there around one then."

"I look forward to it," she grins wider.

When Beth ushers the kids into the studio room Dean takes a deep breath. Alone with her. At her apartment. Yeah, he'd better head into that with some serious resolve to behave. The last time he simply tried to kiss her it turned into something much bigger.

Don't rush this, Dean. He's going to have to remind himself of this several times later today.

* * *

"Hey, come on up," Beth's happy voice answers when he rings her apartment. "I'm number 3 second floor."

The buzzing sound is loud as the door remotely unlocks and Dean steps inside. While walking up the short flight of stairs he grins to himself. He gets to see her again. And not only that, he gets to see where she lives. That may sound creepy if he said that aloud but it's true. A lot about a person is written all over the space they call home. The curiosity is killing him.

"Hey there," Beth says with her wide, toothy smile as she stands in her open doorway to greet him.

"Hi," Dean's mouth turns up a little more to see her standing there. She didn't change out of her work clothes. Yoga pants still on. Oh boy.

"Come in," she says, standing with her back against her open door, giving him room.

He walks with up to her and, taking the time to enjoy the moment, he ducks down and kisses her hello. He pulls away with a huge smirk. "Been dying to do that since this morning."

"You have no complains here," she grins back.

Dean then walks into her apartment and Beth follows him.

Glancing around he sees how shockingly neat the place is. Everything has its place, from the items on the open kitchen counter to the bookshelf full of books. It's still bright, sunny, and somehow warm feeling but seriously tidy.

"Neat freak?" Dean questions her, turning to face her as she closes the door.

"Oh, you noticed?" she jokes. "Yeah. My mom was a total OCD case. She handed that down to me."

"You are just gonna judge the shit outta my place when you come over on Saturday then," Dean tells her, eyeing the pictures on the wall across the room and heading right for them.

"You mean to say that you have a child and your house isn't neat and orderly?" Beth feigns shock. "You're kidding!?"

"Very funny… is this you?" Dean questions as he gets closer to the framed photos, seeing that they are professionally taken photos of live dancers on stage.

"Yeah," she explains, walking to stand next to him. "I was in a dance company back home for a while. This was a show I did in a small, old theater downtown."

"No kidding," Dean says to her and looks back to the pictures, absorbing the photos and her in them. She's in various poses in each, her arms long, body contorting in beautiful ways. He couldn't have guessed he'd see this or that she could do such intricate things. "So… you're really good?"

"I'm alright," Beth stays modest.

"Beth, if I tried to do any of that I would break something, possibly die," he says to her. "You're amazing." He points to one picture in particular in which she has her leg raised straight up one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, toes pointed to the ceiling. "Look at you're friggin' leg! Nobody can do that! Please tell me you still dance and not just teach."

"I haven't in a while," she admits. "I take classes now and then but I don't really perform anymore."

"Why the hell not?" he asks.

"I'm busy being a small business owner."

"Oh, right… that," Dean smiles a bit with his jesting. "Well, if you find free time I say get back into that. I would love to see that."

"I'm sure you would," Beth giggles a little. "Lunch?"

"Aw, you know if you feed me I'll never leave. I'm like a cat. Just keep coming back."

Beth shrugs. "That was the point." She walks into the kitchen with a wink and he's left to stand there staring at her ass in tight black yoga pants. Oh no. The more he's around her and the more she gets comfortable around him the more he's reverting to Horny Dean, his younger alter ego. He used to just not give a shit, finding girls easily with his looks and ability to charm, but this one is new. He's attracted to her like no chick before her on top of the fact that he cares about her. It's actually more than lust.

How long is he supposed to hold out for without breaking? What's the proper amount of time to wait while dating someone before having sex that clears him from being a jerk? He'd love to know the bare minimum right now because the way she looks compounded by the length of time it's been since he's seen any action at all is killing him.

"So how does grilled cheese sound?" she asks with a light tone, reminding him to act like a gentleman and stop thinking about getting her naked.

"Just fine to me," Dean assures her as he joins her, leaning back into the kitchen countertop to watch her gather things from the fridge. It's his lucky day. The butter was on the bottom shelf.

"Good, because it's one of the few things I can competently make."

"Why are you so bad at cooking?" Dean asks. "It's not that hard, really. Just takes practice."

"No, I don't do things I'm not very good at," Beth explains. "I'm a little bit of a perfectionist so if I'm not very good at something I kind of have to ditch it for my sanity."

"So you're a quitter?" Dean questions as she drops her ingredients on the counter.

"No, I just take up interest in only things I have potential in," she says easily enough, getting a frying pan out. "And it works out because then I always succeed."

"Very interesting perspective." He laughs at this theory of hers.

"And what is it that you love to do, Dean?" Beth asks as she heats up a pan on the stove and starts to assemble two sandwiches. "You know that I dance. What do you love?"

Thinking quickly, Dean can only answer with, "My daughter."

Beth glances at him. "Yeah, not what I meant."

"I don't have time for much else past her," Dean explains. "It's only me. I don't have someone that can watch her while I go out back and fix up my car."

"Ah, cars. You're a little bit of a grease monkey," Beth grins, having found it.

"Used to be," Dean nodded. "When Dad handed down the Impala to me I started to get serious about it. Used to do all the maintenance and work on her myself. Now… I bring her to a shop and have another day-to-day car. Kids… they change everything."

Looking at him with renewed respect, Beth keeps working on lunch. She'd love to say that she could watch Alice while he worked on his car anytime but that would be far too presumptuous of her.

A silence falls over them as Beth puts the sandwiches in the heated pan, the bread sizzling on contact. This time it isn't in the least bit awkward though. It's oddly comfortable. Dean watches her move about, grabbing plates, getting him a drink… all the moves mundane in theory but she's so smooth and just so graceful. She's beautiful to watch.

And Beth doesn't let the moment go unnoticed for herself either. It's amazing how easily he can make a plaid button down with the top two buttons left undone and the sleeves rolled up look like sheer heaven. And the jeans, the old, I've-had-these-forever jeans with heavy brown boots… shit. How is this man standing in her kitchen with his bright, beautiful green eyes, perfect lips, and overall look that screams amazing sex actually into her? The hot guy never goes for her.

When the sandwiches finish cooking she sighs in relief. No more letting her mind linger on what could be right now. She's only know him a few weeks anyways.

"Here you go," she says, handing a plate with a finished sandwich on it over to him.

"Looks delicious," he flirts back and follows her to take a seat at the table.

"About as delicious as bread and cheese can be," she says, smiling wide as they settle in.

"Hot sauce?" Dean questions when Beth places a bottle of the stuff next to her plate.

"I put hot sauce on everything," she says to him.

"On grilled cheese?" he asks with near disbelief.

"Yes," she answers and pours a puddle on her plate. "I love hot food."

"Huh," Dean says, once more carting away that information.

"You keep doing that," Beth says when she looks at him funny.

"Doing what?"

"That thing you just did where I tell you something about myself and you, like, mentally catalogue it away. Why do you do that?"

The shock is clear on his face with this one. "How'd you know I was doing that at all?"

"I… well, I guess I could just tell," Beth says, surprised herself that she could tell all that when he points it out to her.

"That's pretty weird," Dean admits.

"I didn't mean to be weird," she assures him, shifting uncomfortable in her seat for a second. "That wasn't my goal there…"

"Oh don't worry about it," Dean starts to backpedal with her reaction to his calling her out. "You just took me by surprise. Most people tell me they can't figure me out."

"What!? You wear your heart on your sleeve," Beth tells him, picking up a half of her sandwich, dipping it in cayenne pepper sauce, and taking a bite. "I think you're obvious."

"Don't know how I feel about that," Dean lets her know as he reaches to her plate with his own sandwich and dips it into her hot sauce puddle out of curiosity.

"Well if it doesn't make you feel good then I take it back. You're an enigma." She smirks at him and he smiles while he takes a bite.

"Alright," he starts while chewing. "That ain't half bad."

"See?" Beth cocks an eyebrow. "So, you never answered. Why do you keep storing away info on me like that?"

Dean nods and finishes his bite. "Honestly?"

"It's the best policy they say," she tells him and waits.

"Cassie used to say that I never knew her," Dean explain himself. "We were together for three years and she claimed I had no idea who she was because I never paid enough attention. I thought she was nuts. I mean, if you live with someone that long then you know them, right?"

"I would say so."

"Well, when she died I realized how right she was. Her mother got yellow flowers for the service and when I asked why she disappointedly told me that Cassie loved yellow roses. I didn't know that. And when her father chose a reading for me to say at the funeral he was shocked that I didn't recognize it. He told me it was her favorite poem, the one she had framed on Alice's wall in her room at our place. I never even looked at it. All these little details I should have known… I just never retained any of it, like it didn't mean anything to me."

"Well, Dean, I don't want to make assumptions or pretend I know you any better than I do at this point… but you mentioned that things weren't very good between you two when she passed, right?"

"It wasn't. We fought all the time and with Alice getting older I was nervous of exposing her to a toxic household. I was gonna break up with her and move out… I was just building up the nerve to do it and accept that I wouldn't see Alice every day. It was a tough decision I was wrestling with at the time and her getting sick kind of made the decision for me."

"So, maybe it was just simply that she was never the girl for you," Beth say to him as kindly as she can. "I'm probably a little too much of a romantic with this but I believe in the concept of the one. I do think that there is a person out there for each of us. I'm not saying that we always find them… the divorce rate sucks for a reason. But when you're with someone that means something, that you really do care about, then those little details aren't so little. Knowing Cassie's favorite flowers would have been more important if she was the right girl for you. And don't take this as me saying that being with her was a mistake. Alice is no mistake…"

"Well, she was," Dean interrupts with a lighter tone. "Best mistake of my life, don't get me wrong, but she was never planned."

"So maybe Cassie wasn't your one, even if she gave you the best thing you have in your life," Beth says and pauses, breathing in once before speaking of something so difficult. "My parents were so happy. They were meant to be, I know that for sure. My dad would never forget anything about mom, never. He got her favorite cake from her favorite bakery every birthday and her favorite perfume in her stocking every Christmas. All the good details along with the bad, they accepted each other completely. It was a rare thing to see and after getting to witness that and be a large part of that for most of my life… I will _never_ settle. I won't be with someone unless I know I could become that happy, that sure and that in love. Even when I get old and wrinkly and gray I want to know that the person I'm with will still want just me."

"Sounds like a hell of a bar they set for you," Dean huffs with nerves. He has to live up to that?

"It was, and I'm grateful for it," Beth explains. "And I'm not saying this to scare you away which there's a good chance I just did. I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't see the potential for that. The fact that you're here saving information about me into your brain lets me know that you're just as hopeful as I am."

Dean huffs yet another nervous laugh.

"You know, I love how I tend to be a fountain of information around you," Beth blurts out with a hand over her eyes, the gravity of all she tells him hitting her after the fact. "I just say things that _no one_ should be saying after seeing someone for just a week."

This is where Dean relaxes a little and gives a good laugh at her.

"I am so sorry for being such a damn girl," Beth continues. "I'm usually much better than this, I swear."

"I don't really know what to say to all that…" Dean trails off and laughs again. "But you might be right. I don't think Cassie and I were meant to last. I think there's someone better out there for me. And I doubt I'd be trying to turn myself around and be better if I didn't also see the potential here too. I do see it."

"It happened fast, right?" Beth asks with wide eyes when she can just feel that he's with her on this, that they're feeling the strength of their connection already.

"A hell of a lot faster than I was ever ready for," Dean nods.

"Uh, I know."

"And to think… I wasn't even looking for anything."

"Oh I was content enough alone," she adds on.

"Me too. I was focused on Al and that's all that mattered. And then I _had_ to pick your dance school out of _all_ the others in Lawrence and here I am, talking about the future with a dance teacher over grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Life's funny, isn't it?" Beth jokes.

"Damn straight, teach," Dean jest right back and holds out his sandwich half, Beth tapping hers into his in a cheers, and taking a big bite while both stare at each other, smiling like they know some kind of secret the rest of the world didn't understand.

* * *

He's reduced her to a high school girl.

That's exactly what's happening. She's in high school all over again, the very moment proving it. Her heart's racing, her nerves are on high… and it's been a long time since just kissing could get her this worked up.

But Beth Noonan is absolutely making out with Dean Winchester on her couch.

Good old fashioned make out session. Lips moving, tongues exploring, it's a long lost moment from her much younger days that's somehow surprisingly sweet… and seriously perfect.

And Dean never meant to make this happen. They'd sat down on the couch with a couple mugs of coffee. They kept a solid foot between them and it was comfortable, easy. But when she reached across him to the end table for her TV remote it was over. She was so close to him, her body heat on him as she leaned over him, and he went for it. And now he's so damn happy he did.

His hand at the back of her head, fingers woven in her long hair, Dean allows himself to get lost in it. Going a step further, he grabs at her thighs, pulling her leg that had been tucked under her towards him.

And Beth goes with it, no second thought needed. When Dean maneuvers her by the hips she allows him to settle her into his lap, straddling him on the couch. She keeps right on kissing him, not daring to separate their lips on the chance that he might stop if she does.

Dean's hands run up her t-shirt covered back, once more finding her long hair and letting his hands comb through it, the smell of her shampoo everywhere. God damn, she smells so good.

And then she hums low and needy, the sound nearly breaking his brain.

Sitting on that edge between keeping her composure and tearing his clothes off, Beth grinds her hips down onto him with total want.

"Mm," Dean grunts out into her mouth and parts their lips just long enough to say, "We should stop." He dives right back in and kisses her some more despite his words.

"We should," Beth agrees, her hands coming to the back of his neck and pulling him in, her lips not at all ready to give up this moment.

"Don't want to," Dean adds in, making it clear that he's only thinking about holding back for her sake because right now he'd love nothing more than to keep this going.

"Shit," Beth complains as she presses a palm lightly over Dean's mouth. "I don't want to either."

She takes a deep breath and looks right into Dean's green eyes that are laden with lust and hooded with heavy eyelids.

"Too soon, right?" she questions and Dean nods his agreement as her hand is still blocking his mouth. She take sit away with a giggle.

"If you think so then I'll agree," Dean tells her with actual honesty. "But… damn, I'm only stopping because I don't want to rush you."

"And I'm only stopping because every time I've rushed into sex it's never worked out," Beth says truthfully. "Not trying to sabotage this."

"Understandable," Dean laments as his hands rub up and down her thighs without thinking. She bites her lip while she composes herself and it helps nothing. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" she questions innocently enough.

"That lip biting thing," he tells her.

"Ok…?" she huffs a little laugh.

"Just… trust me," he huffs and she starts to get it. That's a turn on.

Beth sighs and looks him over, his perfect lips begging to be kissed again but she hangs on to her convictions.

"I should probably not sit here."

"Good idea," Dean answers her and helps lift her off his lap. She stands up and backs away a step or two.

"So that got out of hand… again," Beth mentions, hands on her hips as she looks at him nervously.

"It did," Dean nods, standing up and walking over to her. "Is this where I get tossed out on my ass?"

"Only if you can't keep your hands to yourself," Beth mentions but she has to use that tone of voice that goes straight to his downstairs brain every time.

"Then I guess that's my exit," Dean says to her and heads for the door.

She watches him walk a few steps before airing her worries.

"Should I come over this weekend still?" she asks him, knowing how dangerous that can be at this point.

"Depends," He starts while pulling his keys out of his pocket. "What are you so scared of?"

"I'm scared of losing control around you," Beth tells him. "I really don't want to ruin this."

Nodding his understanding, Dean flips it around. "There's something here. I'm not gonna pretend I know what it is but… it's good. I think you should come by my place Saturday. We'll have dinner and, believe it or not, I can control myself… if that's what you want."

Beth smiles at this.

"I'll see you Saturday," Dean says to her, confident that she'll still come as he walks out the door. He gives her one last smile, a bright one at that, and shuts the door behind him.


	6. Tiny Dancer (Part 5)

"Thanks for taking her again," Dean gratefully says as he hands his brother a pink Little Mermaid backpack and butterfly shaped pillow.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam answers while looking over the almost all pink and far too sparkly items without a second thought. "Although, may I suggest Friday nights every now and then?"

"Madison's pissed?" Dean asks with worry. He certainly didn't mean to cause Sam issues with his wanting to see Beth.

"Not pissed. She just claims that I now owe her a dinner out next weekend. On Saturday." Sam grins knowingly.

"She's high maintenance," Dean immediately gripes.

"No she isn't," Sam assures. "She's just a girl."

"I hope Beth isn't like that," Dean complains, being the home body he is after the past five years. Last Saturday was a rarity.

"Well, if you don't want to always take her out then when are you gonna let you-know-who know about her?" Sam nods his head in Alice's direction as she packs up the toys she just _had_ to bring with her for her sleepover with Uncle Sammy. "She can't come over here if you don't want the princess to find out."

Dean sighs. "I've been thinking about that. I have no idea. I don't know how this is supposed to work."

"At least you already know Alice loves her," Sam looks on the bright side. "She talks about Miss Beth all the damn time."

"I know, but I don't want her to get attached, you know?" Dean airs his concerns. "What if she ends up loving Beth and then we break up? I don't wanna do that to her."

"I think you'll know when it's ok," Sam says thoughtfully. "When you figure out if she's it for you or not then you can either dump her or tell Al. Just wait until you know for sure."

"Yeah… makes sense." Dean then huffs a quiet laugh and a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth when he simply thinks about Beth and how much he's liked everything he's seen of her so far.

Sam looks at him with wide, huge eyes as it all clicks.

Dean panics for a second with the expression Sam gives. "What!?"

"Seriously!?" Sam shout-whispers with shock, keeping Alice out of this conversation. "Already!?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asks in a lowered voice, going with him.

"I saw that bullshit lovey-dovey look you just made."

"Lovey… what!? You're fucking insane."

"Have you told her?" Sam has to know.

"Told her what!?" Dean demands, confused as all hell.

"Ok, so you haven't," Sam truly understands right then. Dean doesn't even know yet.

"What the hell are you blabbering about?" Dean asks with sheer annoyance.

"Hate to break it to you, brother, but you're cooked." Sam pats him on the shoulder.

"Come again?"

"You're done."

"Done with what?"

"You love her."

"_Dude_…" Dean complains right off.

"Deny it, Dean," Sam dares him. "Tell me right now that you haven't fallen for her."

"Sam, that's ridiculous. I don't… _love_… her…" Dean awkwardly spits out and as he does he hates that it sounds like a complete lie. He comes to a severe realization right then. He's in total denial. "Oh, shit."

"And there it is," Sam smirks with too much pride. "So any day that you'd like to let Alice know that Daddy's dating the dance teacher is probably fine since you clearly want to be with her."

"Shut up," Dean says strongly, swallowing hard.

"And if you want to shop for rings, I can help…"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean says angrily, not doing well with processing this life changing moment.

"Look, calm down," Sam says, his hand back onto his brother's shoulder and gripping reassuringly. "No one said you had to tell her yet. And it was a little fast… or _really_ fast… but trust your gut, man. This is good for you and everything you've told me about her sounds really great."

"Did you have to Dr. Phil me right before she comes over?" Dean complains harshly. "You suck."

"I don't suck. I'm a great older brother," Sam says with too much pride. "Don't I always look after you?"

"And didn't I already tell you to shut up?" Dean asks, shrugging out of Sam's grip.

"You need to calm down before she gets here. Have a glass of wine or something," Sam suggests as he looks towards his niece. "Alice, you ready to go?"

"Yes," she answers, trying to close the overstuffed suitcase with flowers printed all over it.

"Al, you don't need all those toys for one night," Dean says to her as he walks over and crouches to the floor to help her.

"Yes I do," she simply answers back.

"No, you don't," Dean says and opens the suitcase. "Alright, pick either the princess dress up stuff or the princess Barbie stuff. You don't need both."

"Daddy, yes I do!" Alice complains quickly. "Madison said to bring my princess stuff…"

"Hey, take it down. I'm not having this conversation with you, sweetheart, because Uncle Sammy's ready to go. One or the other."

"Daddy, that's not fair!" Alice grumpily returns.

"Are you fighting with me?" Dean asks in his scary, fatherly voice, brow lowered.

"You're being mean!"

"Alice… don't start."

"I need all my princess stuff!" she screams in her high pitch.

Dean closes his eyes and breathes out hard, counting to three. Of all the nights his daughter could have picked to act like this…. "Either you pick the Barbie stuff or the dress up stuff or it all stays here with me," he explains the new rules to her through a clearly angry voice.

"You're not being fair!" Alice yells out, the level of volume cutting close to tantrum level as her little hands ball up into fists.

Sam starts to walk forward, intent on helping out, but Dean holds him off with a hand held out. He had this. It's his daughter.

"Ok, it all stays then," Dean tells her, picking up the entire suitcase of toys that can't be closed.

"No!" Alice yells out to him in panic. "I'll leave the Barbie stuff! Daddy! Take out the Barbie stuff!"

"I gave you a chance and you chose to fight with me," Dean says with tough resolve. Deep down he hates these moments. They rip his heart out. Thank God she only does this once in a blue moon. "So now you get nothing."

"Daddy, no!" Alice starts to cry as she runs after Dean walking away from her with all she wanted to bring. "I'm sorry!"

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because…" she starts to answer but pauses.

"If you don't know why you're sorry then everything stays here."

"No!"

"Yes! And since when do you say no to me, young lady? I don't remember that ever being allowed."

"I'm sorry!" she just short of screams at him, getting desperate.

"For what?" Dean stops and gives her the hard stare, the most effective one he knows. "If you can tell me what you're sorry for then we can figure this out. If not, all this stuff stays here."

"I'm sorry because of saying no to you." Alice looks at her shoes with shame.

"And?" Dean keeps prying, wanting to make sure she clearly understands all that she just did wrong.

"Because of not listening to you," the little girl says with a very quiet tone.

"One more to go."

"And fighting with you."

"Al," Dean stays, crouching low to the floor with her suitcase still in hand. "Why _are_ you fighting with me? You don't do that."

"Because Madison told me to bring my princess stuff. I wanted to show her," Alice says, her chin quivering as the tears form and spill so quickly.

"Yeah, but you can't bring all of this over to Uncle Sammy's."

"Why not?"

"Babycakes, this suitcase won't even shut. You have to be able to close your suitcase so nothing falls out and you lose it."

She sniffles and rubs at her snotty nose with the back of her hand.

"I don't like fighting with you, Daddy," Alice gets out as her crying keeps up. It's rare that Dean ever yells at her so this was sure to make her lose it. "You get mad and it's scary."

"And I don't like being scary, Al, but sometimes I have to be when you act out. You didn't leave me a choice," Dean explains, putting her suitcase down and holding his arms open to her. "Come here."

Alice runs to him and hugs him tight, Dean returning the embrace.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yes, daddy."

"You still love me?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good," Dean smiles quietly and pulls her away from him a bit. He wipes away her tears with his fingertips and softens his expression. "You gonna be tough and go to Uncle Sammy's?"

Alice nods.

"That's my girl," Dean says to her and opens the suitcase, handing her two Barbie dolls and a Barbie convertible. "Go put these back."

Alice silently take the toys and goes back into the living room to put them in her plastic toy box.

"I get more impressed every damn day," Sam comments, arms crossed as he leans against the hallway wall and observes.

"Eh, that's about as tough as she gets," Dean brushes the moment off, closing the suitcase. "I got lucky."

"Nah, you're good," Sam tells him. "I see shitty spoiled kids every day through divorce cases. Their parents suck. You don't."

"Well thanks," Dean mutters while closing up Alice's suitcase and handing it over to Sam. "Doesn't help the fact that I feel like shit for yelling at her though. Always puts me in a fucked up mood."

"Don't let that happen," Sam says. "She's a kid. By the time we make it to my house she'll have forgotten all about it."

"Wish I could do the same," Dean says just as Alice walks back into the hallway. "Good to go, kiddo?"

"Yeah," Alice answers, her tone still low.

"Hey, lighten up," Dean says to her, picking her up and resting her on his hip. "It's over now. You said you're sorry and I'm not mad anymore."

"I know."

"Then smile," Dean tells her, kissing her cheek. "You're gonna have fun with Sam and Madison."

Alice doesn't respond, just keeps looking at him with sad eyes.

Dean's heart hurts. "I'm gonna come get you tomorrow morning. Maybe we can go get breakfast."

"Ok," she agrees, still down.

"Give daddy some sugar," Dean says, pointing to his cheek.

She gives him a peck without a smile.

"I love you more than anything, sweetheart," Dean tells her and kisses her cheek one last time before putting her down.

"Let's go, Frog Face!" Sam says to her with a bright smile, opening the door despite his packed arms.

"I'm not a Frog Face, Uncle Sammy," Alice says with stubborn determination… and some levity peeking out behind it.

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!" Alice answers back and smiles a little no matter how hard she tries. "You're a Cow Face!"

"What!? You're crazy!" Alice laughs and Sam steps outside, looking behind him. "She's fine. Relax and have fun." Sam winks and shuts the door. "You're a Goat face!"

How it is that he out of the two brothers ended up with the kid first still shocks him sometimes. Well, not totally. He did some seriously damage back in the day, the kind of damage that can easily lead to children, but Sam was so damn good with kids. Hell, he even got Alice out of her funk with their inside joking crap that no one else on Earth understands.

And now that he's alone Dean has to find a way out of his own bad fog. Yelling at and fighting with Alice always made him sour and with Beth coming over he needs to fix it fast.

* * *

"I'm nervous."

"Why!?" Lou nearly scolds her best friend through the phone. "Are you fucking kidding me? That man is amazing. He's _amazing_! Get your ass in the car and go! Now!"

"I'm in the car," Beth answers, sitting in the driver's seat of her 2011 Dodge Challenger, the Led Zeppelin album she put on the calm her nerves not helping. Dean loves them. The sound ends up making her more nervous instead of calming her.

"So, turn the key and haul ass. You're gonna be late."

"If I go I know I'm gonna sleep with him," Beth admits to Lou easily.

"_That's_ your worry!? That you'll get laid!?" Lou huffs and puff for a minute. "My God, how are we even friends?"

"I ruin it every time I have ever jumped into bed with someone. I don't want that to happen this time."

"Then it won't!"

"That… that makes no sense. You weren't there, Lou. It's like magnetism. I can't stop myself."

"Think about this for a second here," Lou rationalizes. "I have listened to you talk about this guy for over a month now. Everything you've said and all the thinking you're doing about him… there's a reason for that, dumb-dumb."

"And what's that, smart ass?"

"This isn't like you, sweetheart," Lou gives in and goes for it. "I know you better than _you_ know you. I can hear it in your voice and I can tell by how damn nervous you are to fuck this up. You are past liking him. You got more than that going on."

"Lou, I don't… I'm not… how the hell? It's been a week!" Beth tries to say but it comes out so unconvincing it's ridiculous sounding.

"And I'll let you say that since it's been a very short time but you're wrong and that's why you're freaking out. And it's also why you don't have to freak out at all. If he's you're man, if he's the one you wanna be with, then be with him. Stop overanalyzing and enjoy life. We're here for one go around and it's damn short. He feels the same way, trust me. Go fuck the hottest guy on the planet for fuck's sake before I come out there and do it for you!"

Beth closes her eyes and sighs. Leave it to her best friend to force her to see the truth for what it is when she's been doing a damn good job of lying to herself. Her feelings for Dean are definitely that strong. It's way too much to admit so soon but damn it, she's head over heels.

"That just made me more nervous."

"I'm gonna strangle you through the phone!" Lou shouts. "Turn on the car!"

"Lou…"

"Do it now!"

Beth turns the key and the engine roars to life.

"Seat belt on."

Beth clicks it in place.

"Now drive. He's waiting for you and that beautiful man made you dinner. Shut your brain off and get over there. Don't make him want to move on."

"I hate when you're right," Beth says bitterly through gritted teeth as she puts her car in reverse.

"And I'm always right so you'd think you'd be used to it by now…."

* * *

Straightening her loose white V-neck t-shirt and readjusting the red and black plaid scarf around her neck, Beth takes a look into the rearview mirror. She checks her hair and makeup, sure to be casual without looking like she tried too hard. Her eyeliner is straight and lips just tinted, her hair wavy and easy. Liking what she's seeing she steps out of her car, her black combat boots hitting the pavement with a thunk.

She locks the car and heads for the front door, her heart racing. This is his home. Dean and Alice live here. It's a small, one story house painted a pale yellow with white trim. The bushes out front are manicured and the green grass cut neat. It's an adorable little place, exactly the type of house he'd picture for the cute little family.

Deep breath in, slow breath out, and she presses the doorbell. It rings inside and she can hear him heading for the door as the fluttering in her stomach starts up again.

Opening the door quickly Dean stands in front of Beth. Looking her over head to toe very quickly and not in some cheesy way he sighs, a small smile being permitted to form on his lips for the first time since Sam left with Alice.

"Hi there," Beth grins when she looks up at him.

"Hey," he says back, feeling better already with her presence.

"You ok?" Beth asks, narrowed eyes on him with instant suspicion.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dean questions back as he gestures for her to come in. She steps through the doorway and turns around, watching him shut the door.

"Because you seem… off," she tells him. "What happened?"

Dean huffs a laugh. After that conversation with Sam and realizing what she means to him of course she'd figure him out in no time flat. Like he needed the reminder of the current strength of their already-formed connection. "Al. She was fighting with me before Sam took her to his house."

"Oh," Beth answers back, not sure what to say to that.

"She just picked a fight with me and I never backed down so…" he pauses himself. "You know what? You didn't come here to hear me bitch about a fight with my daughter. Come on in."

Dean walks down the hallway to the kitchen where their dinner is already baking in the oven.

"Wow," Beth says as she looks around. The house really opens up in the back, the kitchen being a decent size with black granite counters, stainless steel appliances, dark wood cabinets, and an island in the middle. "This kitchen is awesome."

She looks around some more, comfortably hooking the straps of her purse on one of the stools at the island.

"Dean, I wouldn't suck at cooking if I had a kitchen like this. I'd want to get better just to use it."

He halfheartedly laughs as he walks to the far counter.

"It's not bad. It's one of the reasons I wanted the place when I bought it a couple years back," he explains while opening a bottle of red wine.

Taking a seat at the island, Beth observes as he works with his back to her. He's tense. Very tense. And not a single smile ever reached his eyes since he opened the door. This whole fight really has affected him.

"Dean?" Beth calls over to him and he barely glances over his shoulder at her. With two wine glasses in his hands he walks to the island, standing opposite where she sits, and hands over one. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Now what happened?" She gives him a knowing look, one that says he better start talking without being threatening.

Great, Dean thinks. Now they're _that_ couple that speaks to each other without speaking. So annoying. And far too fast to have that connection.

"Like I said, you don't want to hear me bitch about that," Dean tries to play it off the best he can.

"Try again," Beth says, her fingers spinning the base of her wine glass on the smooth hard surface. "It's eating at you and I wanna know what happened."

Looking at her for a second, determining quickly that she's sincere, he sighs and lets go. "I made her cry."

"Well, there had to be a good reason for that."

"She over-packed her suitcase. She wanted to bring half the toys she owned and I asked her to pick between the Barbie crap and the princess dress up crap," Dean explains it all. "She got mad and told me I was unfair and mean. From there it turned into her yelling and me taking everything away." He shakes his head. "I hate fighting with her, I _really_ hate it."

"I doubt any parent likes it," Beth assures him he's not alone.

"Yeah, but..." He closes his eyes with an odd guilt. "She was still upset when she left. She didn't smile at all when I said good bye. I don't like leaving things like that and it made me want to go back on this whole thing. I wanted to say forget it and stay here, have a ridiculously lame tea party with her and not let her go while she was so damn upset."

Beth smiles at him warmly. "You know that just makes you a good dad, right? That you stayed strong?"

"I guess it doesn't feel too great being a good dad then," he remarks, tipping up his glass and taking a good sized gulp out of necessity.

"I can't imagine how hard it is at times," Beth admits, never having been a parent herself. "But I've seen you with her and I don't doubt for a second that you did the right thing."

"And ruined her night with her uncle in the process."

"I doubt that too," Beth says, this time a big and genuine smile on her face. "If there's one thing I have learned through my job it's that kids rebound so fast it's almost infuriating sometimes. I can guarantee that she's already forgotten about the fight and is having a blast with her amazing _Uncle Sammy_." She says the man's name with exaggeration since Alice never stop talking about how awesome the guy is.

Dean huffs a laugh with that. "Sam's good at that. He already had her easing up as they left with some kinda animal-face inside joke they have."

"A what face?" Beth questions with the silly sound of it.

"Couldn't explain it if I tried," Dean admits. "Like I said, they're damn close and no one else gets them."

"That's pretty special right there," Beth points out. "And now you know for sure that Alice is at her uncle's house having the time of her life while you stand here angry and off. I think you're letting your daughter win this fight."

Looking up at her from his glass he sees her for the first time since he opened the door to let her in. She looks damn good right about now, sexy really, and without even trying he's betting. She's just naturally that good looking. And why again was it he was letting Alice's fight affect him so much while there's a gorgeous girl in his house?

"You make a good point," Dean tells her, his attitude already feeling lighter. "I mean, here I am bitching about a tiny little argument with a five year old while a beautiful woman is sitting here in my kitchen ready to drink. What was I thinking?"

And there he is. The Dean she knows shows up and makes that pink flush on her cheeks show up again.

"Alright, take it down, Casanova," Beth rolls her eyes despite the grin plastered on her face.

"Hey," Dean says kindly and she looks up at him, seeing the usual Dean back to himself. He holds his glass out to her. "Here's to a good night that I won't ruin with a shitty attitude. Promise."

"I'd like that," she tells him and clinks her glass with his, both taking a sip. "Mm," Beth says with surprise once she taste the wine. "What is this?"

"Ah, I don't really know," he laughs a little as he reaches over to grab the bottle and hold it out to her. "I just went into the store and asked for a good pinot noir."

"So the storing information about me worked?" she smirks his way as she reads the label. He remembered the type of wine she likes based on what she drank during their dinner a week ago.

"Sure did," Dean tells her.

"Well, this is awesome," she tells him, handing the bottle back. "Which just means I have to watch myself. Still not ready to make a fool outta myself in front of you by drinking too much."

"I doubt you could do that," Dean assures her, not having the slightest idea of what she could possibly do to embarrass herself in front of him.

"You didn't see me in college," she cocks an eyebrow.

"You went to college?" Dean questions, not having known one way or another if she had or not.

"Yes. I have a Bachelors of Fine Art in Dance with a minor in business," she explains. "As you can now tell I had a plan all along. I wanted my own studio."

"Very ambitious of you," Dean says with an impressed smile while heading for the refrigerator. He opens the door and grabs something before turning back to her. "So you had fun in college I take it?"

"A little too much," she nods while looking back on it. "I was a very well behaved child while at home for my first eighteen years. When I was off on my own… I went a little wild."

"Define wild," Dean asks, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he places a small wooden board with sliced cheese and crackers on the island.

"Um… I mean, I wasn't the girl running around a frat party with her top off," she tries to differentiate. "But, I did like to go out and get drunk. Very drunk. And there may have been mornings where I was at the ballet barre sweating vodka out of my pores…"

"That sounds awful," Dean half laughs and half cringes with the idea.

"It wasn't pretty," she laughs at her young stupidity. "But I never missed a class or a rehearsal. I was in every show. So, despite my drunken antics, I made it work."

Dean nods with pleasant surprise.

"What about you?" she asks, reaching for a cracker and slice of cheese. "Did you do the whole college thing?"

"Oh God, no," Dean laughs. "I was _not_ a student. I always hated school."

"Why?"

"It was boring," Dean puts simply. "I never felt motivated or interested. I was too busy staring out the windows or looking at the cute girls in class. I never cared… which made every teacher I ever had super disappointed since they'd have Sam first and he was a perfect little student."

Beth laughs. "So the older brother made you look bad."

"Definitely," Dean tells her, leaning forward onto his elbows on the counter top. "Sammy was a straight A kid, never had a detention, was valedictorian of his class. I squeaked by with a D-plus average and had a permanent place in detention… the desk chair had worn into shape of my ass, I swear."

"Oh boy," Beth laughs a little more. "It's good to see you turned around."

"Yeah, when Al was born," Dean admits. "I drifted for a few years there, getting crap jobs and not really looking at the future much once high school was done. Cassie was a two night stand while in my hay day that came back a few weeks later saying we had a problem. Once Alice was here, though, I took one look at her and swore I'd be better than that. I didn't want her to put me through what I put my own parents through."

"See, you're a smart man," Beth wags a finger at him.

"If you say so," Dean answers back. "You'll be hard pressed to find a teacher that I've had that would agree with you though."

"Well, it worked out in the end," Beth points out. "You found your way. So what if it took you a while to find it?"

"That's one way of looking at it," Dean nods.

"And, I have to ask… realty?" she questions him. "Not exactly the career I'd expected out of you."

Dean laughs a little at this. "Me neither," he admits.

"How'd that happen?"

"Uh, well, when Cassie and I found out about Alice we decided we needed to give this a solid go. A month before she was born we worked with a realtor to find our first house. The guy's job seemed awesome. He came and went at his own pace and schedule, basically schmoozed people into buying properties… I thought, hell, I can do that. Next thing I know I'm getting certified and hocking houses. It's an actual living when the economy is floating and hell, I saved a ton by being my own broker selling my last house so it worked out."

"Is it what you want to do for the rest of your life?" Beth questions, still feeling the job is a little off for him.

"I, uh… I don't know," Dean admits. "I never really took the time to think about it. Just knew I had to work to make money and support my girl. I don't hate the job…"

"But do you love it?" Beth asks. "Because I love my job. _Love_ it. I work with kids, I make them happy, I get to be silly and be a kid again myself and it's a total creative outlet. I look forward to every day I have there. Do you?"

"Huh," Dean thinks. "I look forward to getting up with Al in the morning… and picking her up from school. I love my time with her. Other than that… take it or leave it."

"If you could do anything," Beth asks, leaning forward a bit. "Anything at all, money is no object, what would you do?"

Dean just stares at her, not sure of what to say. "I honestly have no idea."

"You should think about that," Beth tells him. "I don't believe in wasting life on a job that you don't absolutely love. We spend at least a quarter of our lives working. Might as well spend that time being as happy as you can be."

Dean raises his glass and pauses with a grin before he takes a sip. "That was pretty deep."

Beth laughs a little. "I try to appear smart when I can." She stands up. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Just down the hall," Dean answers, pointing a thumb behind himself. She smiles her thanks and heads that way, Dean stepping out in front of her to block her on her way past. "Hold on. I just…" He leans down and kisses her once. He doesn't make it too deep, knowing they still had dinner in the oven and the last few times he's made that mistake things went further than he'd intended. But after talking to her, staring at her there looking so good… he had to kiss her.

When Dean pulls away from her lips he grins down to her. "I didn't do that when you got here. Figured I could make up for that."

"Don't ever explain yourself," Beth tells him, patting his chest. "You wanna kiss me then do it. Open invitation."

"I'll remember that," Dean says to her as she walks down the hall.

* * *

The room is absolutely adorable. It's a little too pink, even for a dance teacher's tastes, but still. A lot of care went into this room and Beth can't help but melt at the thought that a single dad did all this just to make his little girl happy.

There are toys strewn about everywhere. Barbie dolls and a tea party set on a small, plastic table and chairs in the corner, a tiny vanity set littered with makeup and sparkly barrettes, the twin bed with sheer pink canopy… it's every young girl's dream room.

"The mess must be killing you to see," Dean jokes as he finds her leaning against the doorway of his daughter's room. He's seen how neat she usually is.

"No, actually, I'm ok with it," Beth answers lightly as she scans it over again. "I was just thinking how every little girl out there would love a room like this."

"Yeah, I spoiled her a bit," Dean says with a little drop of shame. "But I felt like I had to… like I had to make up for her mom."

Beth nods as her eyes fall on a picture frame propped on the nightstand. "Is that her?" she asks and points to the image.

"Yeah, that's Cassie."

"She's stunning," Beth says to him as she sees the woman for the first time. Her hair is curly and wild like Alice's. She had the same shaped eyes and high cheekbones, her skin perfect and a bit darker than her daughter's.

"Alice got lucky," Dean says, every now and then having that moment of pain where he still misses Cassie. "She looks mostly like her mother."

"True, but you're in there too," Beth points out and takes her glass of wine from him. "She has your nose."

"Oh wow, I got a nose," Dean jokes. "She's a near copy of her mother and I know it. And I'm fine with it. She's a beautiful girl for that reason." Dean grins wide thinking about his daughter but then refocuses. "Come on. Chicken pot pie is almost ready." He winks and grabs her hand.

"You're good, Winchester," Beth points out to him, shocked that he made her the one dish she misses from her childhood the most. He's _very_ good.

"Trying to be," Dean answer honestly and leads her back down the hall.


	7. Tiny Dancer (Part 6)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

"Seriously?" Beth asks with worry when Dean opens the oven pulls out yet more food. "I'm _so_ full from dinner. I might die."

"Aw, come on," Dean goads her on, two white ramekins being pulled out of the oven and placed on the stove top. "There's always room for chocolate."

"That _is_ girl code, isn't it?" she giggles, the wine getting to her a little bit… or maybe it's just Dean. She's feeling damn good and damn happy to be around him right now.

"Absolutely," he tells her, turning back to look at her sitting high on the counter next to him. "And you have a couple minutes to work up an appetite while it cools."

"I'll do what I can," she tells him.

He spies the empty wine glass next to her and walks over to the small metal wine rack he has on the counter next to him. He pulls out a second bottle of pinot and starts to open it without asking her if she wants more.

"Oh, wait," Beth says with worry when she catches what he's doing. "Dean, maybe don't bother."

"Why not?" he asks with confusion.

"Well, I've had enough for me and if I have more I won't be in any shape to drive home after."

"You can stay here if you want," Dean says without really thinking, not looking up from the bottle he's uncorking until it dawns on him what the implication of his words might be. His eyes are wide when they snaps up onto her. "Oh, not that… I mean, I'm not assuming anything here. I know you wanna take it slow. I just, Al won't be back until I get her tomorrow morning so if you'd like to keep drinking you're more than welcome to crash here." He immediately winces, knowing he's a bumbling idiot around her sometimes.

"Oh my God, you are so cute," Beth giggles a bit with his worry and Dean looks back down at the wine bottle he's got half uncorked.

"And now I'm just gonna open this for me," he jokes and pops the bottle open. "Maybe I'll be a little smoother if I drink more."

"No, I like this version of you," Beth admits, her legs swinging slightly as they hang off the counter's edge. "And you are cute. You're very cute. And very sweet. Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome," Dean tells her, and looks over to her, holding up the bottle and raising an eyebrow in question.

Should she? If she has another glass that means she's staying. She'll be sleeping in his house tonight. Will that be awkward? She didn't bring extra clothes and she certainly doesn't have a toothbrush… oh but he's just so adorable. And that smile he's giving her, all hopeful and kind…

"What the hell?" Beth gives in and holds out her empty glass. With an even more brilliant smile, one that gives him away completely, Dean pours.

"Like you said, why waste life doing things you don't want to do?" Dean repeats her own words from earlier that night.

"Touché," she nods back and takes a sip, letting her guard officially down.

"You work up that appetite yet?" Dean questions as he hands her a glass and heads for the stove. "Because this," he says, grabbing one of the white ramekins and a spoon. "You have to eat warm."

Walking over to her, Dean stands between her knees as she sits on the counter. He grins wide at her before digging a spoon in and getting her a good bite.

"Chocolate molten cake?" Beth asks when she sees what it is in his hand. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

"What?" Dean asks, his smile giving away his pride in himself.

"You know how to make that?"

"It's not that hard," Dean tries to be modest.

"You're not real," Beth shakes her head, sure of it as she sets her glass next to her on the counter. "You're not. There's no way you really exist."

"Just shut up and try it," he stops her, not wanting to hear her say such things, and holds up the spoon.

Mouth open, she lets him feed her the first bite.

"Holy crap," Beth says with a mouthful once she's tasted it. "That's awesome."

"Thanks," he smiles with sheer pride and finds himself staring at the smudge of chocolate left behind on her bottom lip. "You, ah…" he starts to tell her, pointing at her mouth, but instead he decides to help her out differently.

With a hand on her cheek he pulls her in. Dean swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, licking up the chocolate before planting a short, closed mouth kiss on her.

Beth just stares at him when he backs away a little, caught off guard by the move.

Dean clears his throat and tries to explain. "You had chocolate…"

She doesn't let him finish the statement. Instead Beth grabs his jaw with both hands and pulls him back in, the short, sexy as hell kiss just not nearly enough for her.

And that's all it took. Instantly they're all over each other. It feels like they both have been waiting to do this all through the night, only holding back for the sake of not ruining a good date and a good thing.

But whatever it is between them is too strong for all that.

Dean's hands reach around her, landing on her ass as he pulls her forward until she's just at the counter's edge and her hips pressed into his.

A short, quiet grunt of appreciation to feel her this close and right up against him and Dean lets his hands move on, grabbing into her hair as his mouth devours hers. His tongue takes a mind of its own, slipping into her mouth and tasting the chocolate he'd just fed her.

And when Beth's hands trail along his waist, slipping just under his shirt to touch his warm skin over hard muscle, Dean hears the alarm bells ringing loudly in his head.

"We need to stop," Dean says with his forehead pressed to hers briefly before backing away a step and leaving a solid foot of space between them. He takes a deep breath and washes a hand down his jaw. "You want to hold off. We should stop."

And with perfect timing Lou's voice shows up in the back of Beth's head right then.

_If he's you're man, if he's the one you wanna be with, then be with him. Stop overanalyzing and enjoy life. We're here for one go around and it's damn short. He feels the same way, trust me._

"No. I want this," Beth admits to him and Dean instantly gives her a skeptical look.

"You're just saying that right now."

"No, I'm not. I've wanted this the whole time."

"And you just told me you were drunk…"

"Tipsy," she quickly corrects. "But my decisions are still very clear."

"Yeah… I don't know," Dean worries aloud.

"This is good, right? Me and you? We're good?" She points between the two of them.

"Definitely," Dean answers with hope.

"And we couldn't ruin this?" Beth tries to further her point. "I mean, I really l-like you. And you feel the same?"

A small smile creeps across his face. "Absolutely."

"Then… I want this. I _really_ want this."

"I'm just worried that… Beth, if you…"

"Shut up, Dean," she practically demands of him but then gives him no choice. She pulls him by a fistful of t-shirt into herself and presses her lips to his again, proving she's having no second thoughts.

And Dean is not one to argue. Sure, in the way, way back, far reaches of his brain he's thinking about how bad an idea this is but the rest of his brain, and the rest of _him_, votes to keep going. It's a majority rule.

With Beth's hands framing his face she pulls him in tighter and closer, needing every inch of him pressed against her. It's an urgent feeling, one of true need, and one she isn't sure she's ever felt before now. It's stronger than she was ever ready for but she certainly can't stop it. She doesn't want to stop it anyways but still, if she did want to it wouldn't matter. She needs this man and she needs him now.

And if Beth thinks she can renege on this yes she just gave him she better think twice. She set off the launch sequence for Dean and now there is no turning back. Tonight Dean is going to make Beth his. This is exactly what he wants and what he's needed for so long… he just didn't know that until now.

Hands grasping hard to the underside of her thighs, Dean lifts Beth up off the counter and into him. He holds her high, her legs instantly around his waist and arms tightly wound around his neck, and kisses her. He can't stop himself. Her lips are so soft, so delicious as they move with his. It's addicting, intoxicating even, and she just tastes so good.

Wrapped around his upper body, her hands in his short hair as she clings to him, Beth already knows this was the right decision. She believes it so much that she doesn't worry when he starts to walk them out of the kitchen and down the hallway of the one-story house. She doesn't even flinch when they burst through the doorway of a room at the end of that hallway. And she certainly doesn't fret in the least when she feels herself falling backwards, a cushy mattress breaking her fall.

Dropping down with her, hovering as he holds himself up, Dean realizes where he is through the haze of wine and her. Without thinking he got himself this far, alone in his bedroom with a beautiful girl underneath him, and he gets a quick flash of nervous energy. He hasn't done this in so damn long. And she's so fucking hot. How the hell is he gonna last more than a couple minutes with her? He can't embarrass himself nor can he disappoint her like that. She's gotten herself this far, overcoming clear reservation and moral indecision, so this has to be something good for her. Anything less than a good performance won't do.

Parting their lips for the very first time since they started up in the kitchen, Dean pauses to look down at Beth. She peers back up at him, eyes heavy with need matching his, and he has to smile.

"I've wanted to get you here, like this, since I signed Alice up for dance classes," he confesses to her, the honesty pouring out of him. "I've wanted you so bad…"

"Me too," Beth smiles slightly, her hand raking through his hair gently and lovingly before kissing him again, needing to feel him some more. "So much," Beth assures with her lips bushing his and circles her arms around his neck again, making him lean down on his elbows, forearms framing her head.

They stay this way for some time, Dean completely blanketing her with himself as they let their mouths do all the work, something refreshingly comfortable about the moment that should be all nervous thoughts and movements from the both of them.

Once more, Beth does that thing where she hums with want into his mouth and his heart races. She sounds so damn good, her voice light and deeply sexy. He wants to hear more from her as he can only imagine that if she sounds this amazing with simply kissing then she's bound to sound like music to his ears if he can really get her going.

And he plans to.

* * *

"Thank you," Beth says as she takes the offered glass of wine from Dean. He sits on the opposite end of the couch from her, leaning his back into the arm much like she is and taking her bare feet in hand. He puts them in his lap once he settles in. "You might not want to do that."

"Do what?" he asks her with confusion.

"I have dance feet," she explains with a smirk. "They're not great."

"Aw, come on. They're cute," he assures her, rubbing his hand down her calf.

"No, they're ugly. And rough," she laughs a little. "And just… over used."

"Eh, doesn't bother me," Dean brushes off as he picks his feet up off the living room carpet and plops his onto the couch right next to her. "And look, we'll even it out. Mine aren't great either."

Beth rolls her eyes and drops a hand on his sweatpants-covered leg. Taking a sip of her wine she looks him over. After that lovely introduction to what could be their relationship behind bedroom doors she's feeling even better about their relationship than she could have hoped.

"So, um… I gotta tell you," Beth starts, her shyness coming on full force. Why she doesn't know since he's already seen her naked but still. She's feeling vulnerable. "I told myself I wouldn't rush into any relationships anymore, not after my last one."

"What happened there?" Dean questions, drinking from his own glass as his hand runs along her smooth leg, his eyes looking her over. She looks beyond amazing in the purple and black plaid button-down of his that she took off the desk chair in his room. With just that and her black panties on it's a little hard to concentrate but he does what he can.

"I just… I fell too fast and too hard. I let him in when I shouldn't have and soon enough he left. To him it wasn't serious but to me…." Beth sighs. "Point is I broke my rules tonight. But I don't actually regret it."

"I was sure you would," Dean tells her honestly. "With how adamant you were that you wanted to wait… I wanted to say no, to hold off for you…"

"Nice job on that," Beth jokes.

"Hey, I blame you," Dean points his finger and accuses.

"How!?" she asks with outrage. "You were the one that kissed me first, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're the one that looks like that," Dean says to her. "And you came here alone and my daughter's not around… what the hell chance did I have of keeping away?"

"I see your point," Beth answers, blushing furiously as she drinks more wine.

"And bad job or not, I wanted to follow your rules," he gets them back on track. "The last thing I wanted to do was be the douchey guy that just wants to get in your pants."

"I don't see you as the douchey guy, Dean."

"I just didn't want you to think that all I wanted was sex," Dean explains further. "It's not. I mean I want that from you, don't get me wrong, but I want more than just that."

Beth nods and smiles, happy to hear that.

"And I'm not gonna do that now… leave you, I mean," Dean wants to calm her nerves and make sure she knows he's not the last guy she was with. "I know this happened really fast but… I'm not trying to ditch out on you. There's no goodbye here. This is a beginning."

"Not an end?" she challenges, eyebrow cocked.

"No way. Not after _that_," he responds with certainty, referring to their time in his bedroom before getting serious again. "I feel a whole lot for you that I never saw coming and this right here is good. I know it's good. I'm not running away. I just want you to know that."

Beth grins from ear to ear and bites her bottom lip. Looking down into her wine glass she says to him, "Good to know."

She's adorable, he thinks to himself in the moment, and he's certainly not letting her go, not now. And he knows just how he's going to prove that.

"Come grab breakfast with me tomorrow morning?" Dean suggests as they sit and relax, having a plan in his head.

"As long as you don't mind me being in the same clothes and not having showered…"

"Go home first then," Dean shrugs. "I have a couple errands to do tomorrow morning and I can meet you after, at Annie's."

Beth nods. "Sure."

"Awesome," Dean grins right back.

Licking her lips as she looks him over again, Beth couldn't possibly be a happier person. He's amazing. This man is more than she ever expected to find in life. And he just so painfully beautiful. She knew he was gorgeous, yes, but underneath those clothes lies a man, a real man, one that makes her shiver a little in her seat with the memories of the past hour.

"Speaking of beginnings," Beth starts to say as she places her glass on the coffee table and takes back her legs. She moves so that she's straddling his thighs, taking his wine glass out of his hand and placing it with her already discarded one. "I was thinking about beginning something right now."

Leaning into him, she snakes her arms around his neck and kisses him slowly, making it very clear exactly what she's planning on starting up.

"Mm," Dean hums unexpectedly. "You serious? Round two?"

"It's only nine at night, grandpa," Beth playfully reminds him. "Night's still young."

"Well… if you insist…"

"And I do."

"Well then," Dean begins to say as he starts to open the buttons on the shirt of his she's wearing. "Do what you must."

"Slick," she jokes before pressing her lips to his again, ready to keep this newfound love life of hers rolling.

* * *

Running into Annie's diner at ten minutes past ten Beth almost laughs. Just two weeks ago she was a nervous wreck sitting in this very diner waiting for a late Dean. Maybe this is payback. Or maybe it's just the fact that they were running late this morning since they decided to say good morning to each other naked while tangled in sheets and moaning each other's names. She didn't leave his house until much later than she expected for that reason.

It's probably the latter. The memory makes her giddy. Shit. She's done for with this man.

Bursting through the door she looks around quickly, her eyes falling right onto the same booth they shared for their first date.

"Miss Beth!"

Her eye go wide when she hears Alice's voice call her name. The little girl is sitting in the booth next to Dean, both of them looking at her expectantly and with smiles. She's shocked to see his daughter with him. He never mentioned bringing her all morning.

"Hi," Dean smiles wide, the clear adoration for her in his eyes as she walks over. He knows he caught her off guard with this one but he doesn't care. This is the right move. He's sure of it.

"Good morning. _Both of you_," Beth nervously greets and walks over to them. Dean stands up and brings an arm around her lower back, quickly kissing her cheek as Beth tries to process what is happening here. Did he tell Alice about them? Already!? He said he wanted to wait a while.

"Daddy told me you were gonna have breakfast with us!" Alice nearly shouts with excitement.

"Babycakes, keep it down," Dean says to her, sitting back down next to her and pinching her lips shut with his thumb and forefinger. "Miss Beth is right here. You don't have to yell."

"Sah-mee, Daddy," she tries to apologize with her lips in his hold. Dean has to laugh at that as he lets her go.

"It's fine, just calm down," Dean tells her and then looks to the still standing Beth. "You gonna sit?"

Beth looks at him like he's crazy. "Sure. I just needed a minute," she explains, the expression on her face making it clear that she's confused. She sits down and settles in across from the father and daughter pair as Alice gets to coloring with assorted crayons on her placemat. "So, what's going on here?"

Dean reaches his hand across the table, palm up, and silently asks for her hand in return. She of course hands it over and he gives it a good couple squeezes to reassure her. She nods and he winks in response. Dean takes his hand back and turns to Alice, her eyes trained on her coloring.

"Al, can I talk to you about something for a second?"

"Ok," she answers and continues to work on her masterpiece.

"Sweetheart, put the crayons down for just a little bit, alright?" Dean requests while gently pulling the blue crayon from her hand. "I want to talk like grownups."

Alice turns in her seat to look at her father, her bright brown eyes happy and trained on him. She loves when she gets treated like adult. "I'm a big girl now. I can talk like a grownup."

"Yes, I know that. And Miss Beth and I wanted to tell you something."

"Ok, Daddy," Alice answers, not at all seeing where this is going at her young age.

"So, you know how your Uncle Sammy has a girlfriend?"

Did he just say girlfriend? Beth has a flash of panic in her stomach with that word. They never talked about this. But really, if she thinks about it, he's not making much of a leap here. She'd love that label from him, especially after the past day.

"I like Madison a lot," Alice tells him.

"I know you do," Dean laughs, having been well aware of how enamored his daughter is with the woman. "And you like Miss Beth a lot too, right?"

"Yes," Alice answers, smiling wide at her dance teacher.

"Well, what do you think about Beth being _my_ girlfriend?" Dean asks, feeling the ripping off of the band aid deep in his chest. "Would you be ok with that?"

"You want Miss Beth to be your girlfriend?" Alice has to wonder, making sure she's heard correctly.

"Yes I do," Dean answers her, peaking at Beth out of the corner of his eye. "I would really like that. I think she's very nice and a good influence for you and she's really pretty… and I think she'd be a good friend for both of us to have."

Alice's big questioning eyes keep looking back and forth between her father and her dance teacher, processing everything. She lands on Beth and asks, "You're my Daddy's girlfriend now?"

Beth glances over at Dean, giving him a heads up that she might kill him for springing this on her without warning, before looking back to Alice. "Yes… but only if that's ok with you. If you don't like that idea then I don't have to be…"

"Can we have princess days too!?" Alice gets all excited all over again.

"What's a princess day?" Beth has to ask with the odd reaction.

"It's when Madison and me dress up like princesses and be princesses for a day and we have tea parties and make dances!" Alice explains, standing up on her booth seat when the promise of fun gets to be too much. "Please!? Daddy!" she turns to Dean. "Can Miss Beth come over today and play princess with me!?"

Dean's huge eyes just look at his daughter for a second, not having been ready for this reaction. He wasn't sure what she'd say or do but he never anticipated this.

"Miss Beth is always welcome at our house," Dean tells his daughter. "But if she's busy then she can't make it. No whining, right?"

"Can you!?" Alice asks, leaning over the table with her hands pressed to the Formica. She looks so damn happy and so excitable how could Beth say no?

"Absolutely," Beth answers her with a grin, relaxing with how clearly accepted she is. "Alice, I would love to be a princess with you."

"You don't have to…" Dean starts but Beth cuts him off right away.

"I want to be a princess, Dean." The playful tone in her voice gives her away. She does want to hang out with Alice. She really does want in.

He couldn't have smiled wider at this.

"But can we eat breakfast first?" Beth wonders across the table at the little family.

"Definitely," Dean grins back, shocked and relieved at how well that conversation went.

"Daddy, do you have my pill?" Alice asks when she thinks about eating.

"Yeah," Dean answers, pulling a pill bottle from his back pocket and handing her a tiny capsule. As he does he keeps a close eye on Beth, making sure she remembers that Alice has a medical issue and that she's signing up for that as well as being a part of their family.

"Here, sweetie," Beth says, pulling the straw out of the now drained glass of orange juice in front of the child and putting it into the water at her own place setting. She then slides the water to Alice so that she could have something to take her pill with.

"Thank you," Alice quickly says and takes her pill with the offered water.

Now, Dean's seen a whole lot out of Beth in the past twenty-four hours. He's seen her adorably nervous when she first arrived on his doorstep, giddily tipsy once she'd had just a little too much wine, insanely sexy when she came after him on the couch before what he thought was them ending their night for good… but nothing will compare to what just happened right now. Beth has never been better, more beautiful, more _everything_, than she is when she helps and accepts his daughter for everything that she is, flaws and all. There is nothing better than that and nothing more comforting to see.

Beth grins at him for a second when she catches him smiling like a dope at her. Dean mouths a _thank you _to her, Beth saying a silent _no problem _right back.

This is going to work. It will. And it's going to be wonderful.


	8. Tiny Dancer (Part 7)

**One month later.**

"Daddy!" they both hear the very loud and excitable voice shout out as the bedroom door flies open, hitting the bedroom wall hard with a boom. "Daddy, get up!"

"Shit," Beth says under her breath with fear, ducking down under the covers of Dean's bed and hiding, not daring to move a muscle. She holds her breath and prays that Alice won't jump up on the bed or see the extra, human-sized lump under the comforter. Shit! She forgot to set her alarm on her phone! Alice isn't supposed to know about this!

"Hey… babycakes," Dean says to his daughter as he sits up quickly and looks at her with guilty eyes. "You're up early."

"It's not early," Alice laughs. "Grandma and grandpa are gonna be here soon! Can we start making breakfast!?"

Dean's sights whip to the digital clock on the nightstand. Almost ten in the morning. Shit!

"Yeah, honey, why don't you go in the kitchen and start getting stuff ready," Dean thinks quickly. He has to get Beth out of here. This wasn't a talk he was ready to have with his daughter. "And stay in there, ok? I'll be with you in two seconds."

"Ok!" Alice says, her usual happy tone loud and bright, and she runs off down the hallway to the kitchen.

"Shit," Beth panics in a harsh whisper when she digs herself out of the billowing blankets and looks at Dean with panicked eyes.

"Shh!" Dean answer back, jumping out of bed and running to the open bedroom door. He closes it and turns to her with worry. "You gotta get outta here."

"You think!?" she asks, getting off the mattress to grab her clothes strewn about the room. She starts to get dressed while her hands shake. "You're parents are gonna be here!"

"I know," Dean laments, rushing to grab some jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel button-down to make himself look as presentable as he can. It's the morning of their monthly family brunch and it's his turn to host. This mistake couldn't have happened on a worse day. "You shouldn't have stayed over last night."

"You shouldn't have asked me to and then gave me that little puppy-dog-eyes look," she rebuts immediately, thinking this is his fault. "I wanted to get up on time so that I could go home and make myself presentable before meeting your parents for the first time."

"Then you shouldn't have worn that low cut shirt and tight jeans last night," Dean looks at her, pulling his shirt on and smirking.

"And you shouldn't have kissed me like you did and then assured me we'd get up early enough to avoid all this," Beth points out, looking in the mirror quickly at her mussed hair. She combs her fingers through it quickly and looks at him before shaking her head and laughing a little. "This sucks."

"It'll be fine," Dean assures, fully dressed and walking over to her. "I'll distract Al and you can head out through the sliding doors in the kitchen."

Beth sighs. "Fine. And I'll go home and make myself look like I didn't sleep at my sexy and very impossible to say no to boyfriend's house and then come back to meet your parents. Just text me what lie you use for me being late before I get back." She leans up and kisses him, her lips moving slow and with a still burning want that's boiled over from last night.

"Beth, get out here," Dean says with a smile when he backs away from her, knowing they can't kiss each other like that if they don't have the time and privacy to do so.

"Oh God, as if I wasn't nervous enough about today…"

Dean gets to the kitchen and fined Alice setting out plates and silverware on the kitchen table. "Look at you go!"

"We have to hurry, Daddy. You slept way too late," Alice explains.

Dean walks over and picks her up. "I know. I messed up didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Think you can you help me get things ready fast to make up for it?"

"Yes."

"Alright," Dean laughs a little and sets her on the kitchen island, her back to the hallway so that Beth can sneak by and get out the back door. "What did we say we were gonna make?"

"Waffles!" Alice answers with a huge grin. She loves waffles.

"Done and done," Dean answers, plucking ingredients from the refrigerator and the cupboard and placing them with Alice.

As the father and daughter talk about their breakfast plans and what Alice did without him all morning, Beth tiptoes down the hall, boots in hand. She carefully picks up her purse from the kitchen table chair that Alice somehow didn't see and heads for the door. She slowly slides the glass door open, Dean keeping Alice occupied the whole time, and she steps outside. Before shutting the door she glances at Dean with a smile and mouths to him _love you_. He winks back.

Once outside and in the clear, Beth yanks her boots on, not bothering to tie them. She sighs, happy to have made it out, and jogs around the side of the house. Opening the fence gate, she steps through and turns around, closing it as quietly as she can. Home free. Now she just has to get home and fix herself up a bit before coming back….

"Good morning," she hears a pleasant male voice call, one that has plenty of amusement behind it, and she turns sharply to see a Subaru Impreza WRX in the driveway. The man smirks at her very knowingly as he gets out of the driver's side of the car, a beautiful blond woman doing the same from the passenger side, and Beth's heart drops to her feet. She didn't make it. That's definitely his parents. One look at John and how damn much Dean looks like him and she's sure of it.

"Uh, morning," Beth grins wide, stepping cautiously forward towards the couple. Her heart races with fear. They have to know what's happening, right? Her hair is all over, her makeup nonexistent, and her boots aren't tied. She's also hoping that her shirt isn't on backwards with how quickly she dressed. Her hand comes up and fingers dip under the collar in the front. No tag. At least she knew how to get dressed.

"You must be Beth," the woman says with a very clearly entertained tone.

"Yes, that's me," Beth nods and walks to them. They know what's up, they have to. So embarrassing…

"Mary," Dean's mother greets, holding out her hand. Beth shakes it and prays her morning breath isn't too terrible right about now.

"It's really nice to meet you," she says in return. She had been looking forward to finally getting to know Dean's parents… just not like this.

"I'm John," his father says and Beth shakes his hand. He grips her hand just hard enough and gives her a look, the kind of playful one she now knows Dean learned from him. "And I'm wondering why you're sneaking out of my son's backyard at ten in the morning."

"John!" Mary calls, not looking to immediately crush this new girl.

"What!?" John laughs. "It's a good question." He looks back at the woman and takes his hand back. "So? I gotta know… why are you sneaking out of Dean's place like this on a Sunday morning?"

"Would you believe I just got here and tried to go in the back door but it's locked?" Beth knows he would never buy this. She's going for the charming angle if at all possible.

"Not at all," John smiles wide.

"Well then… I'm thinking you've already figured this out," Beth sighs, looking at her shoes. "This was _so_ not the first impression I was hoping to make on you two."

"Does Alice know you stayed over?" John questions, his tone getting serious and eyes narrowing at her.

"No," Beth assures. "Dean wants to wait to let her know about that and I agree. I just plain forgot to set my alarm last night before falling asleep. I take full responsibility for this one."

"Yes, well, I have a sneaking suspicion that my son had plenty to do with it," Mary assures her, walking over to her as she can see how nervous Beth is. "Look, why don't we go in…"

"Oh, I was gonna drive home first," Beth says pointing to her car parked out on the street in front of the house. "Change and get ready for the day…"

"We've already caught you, honey," Mary says, her hand on Beth's shoulder. "And you care that we caught you because you want to impress us. That's good enough for me. I'm impressed. Just come in and have breakfast with us. It's fine."

"That your car?" John asks, ignoring the situation in front of him and walking to the street.

"Um, yeah," Beth nods, seeing John moving for the car like he's magnetically attracted to it.

"I'm impressed with _this_," John says to her.

"It's not quite as nice at the '67 Chevy you very insanely handed down to your son, but it's alright." Beth smiles wide, knowing this whole situation might be ok. Mary is accepting her despite her fuck up and John's already distracted by her Dodge Challenger.

"Insane?" John eyes her with surprise.

"You gave away a mint classic Impala," Beth grins wide. "I'd say that's insane."

To this John laughs good, amused by her stance on the issue.

"You know, I usually prefer the classics but… this baby can haul some serious ass," John admits, walking around the vehicle as he inspects it. "How fast have you gotten her up to?"

"When I drove back home to visit I found a good stretch of straight road that no one was on. Got her to one-oh-five. It was awesome…" And Beth pauses with fear. "I was alone of course. I would never drive recklessly like that with someone else in the car..."

"Beth, you really do need to calm down," Mary laughs a little while trying to reassure her. "We weren't thinking that you'd drive like that with Alice or Dean in the car."

"I just… um, ok," Beth says, still jittery and nervous.

"Man, that is a really nice car," John says to her as he walks back up the driveway to Beth. "I'm not joking. I'm seriously impressed."

"Can't be impressed until you give her a good spin," Beth points out.

"Is that an invitation?'

"Am I trying to make up for my massive slip up this morning?"

John just smiles at her, gears turning, as he heads for the front door. "Let's get some breakfast, shall we? Then we can talk about taking that car out for a drive." John winks at her and she grins right back, blown away with how fast she got on his good side with how badly it started.

He opens the front door and shouts that grandpa is here to the house.

Mary stops Beth in the driveway when she can see the still running nervousness Beth has in her.

"Beth, I meant it," Mary assures her. "You're an adult and so is my son. From everything he's already told me about you I know you're very good for him. Don't let this slip up mean anything more than you wanting to spend time with Dean. I get it. I was in my twenties at one point myself."

Beth pushes out a breath of relief within a laugh. "Just so embarrassing…"

"You make my son happy," Mary drives home the point as she places a hand on Beth's shoulder. "He hasn't ever been this happy unless he's with Alice. Please believe me when I say this means nothing. John may give you hard time but he's just as happy to meet you. We just want to get to know the woman that can actually make our youngest son smile."

Beth stares at her for a second. "You always this good at being so heartfelt?"

"I have two boys and a husband. _Someone_ had to be the emotional one."

Beth laughs at this and shakes her head.

"Come on," Mary says as she walks for the door, Beth following. By the time they get to the kitchen John has Alice held on his hip and Dean's mixing up batter in a bowl.

"Good morning!" Mary says and lights right up the second she sees her granddaughter.

"Grandma!" Alice near screams and leans away from John to give Mary a hug.

As they greet each other Dean looks over at the third person to come through the front and his face drops to see Beth there.

"Good morning, honey," Beth says in a sarcastic and overdone way as she moves to stand beside Dean and give him a kiss on the cheek hello.

"Miss Beth! This is my grandma and grandpa!" Alice says to her when she sees Beth in the kitchen.

"I know!" Beth says in an over the top way to match Alice's always crazy energy level. "I just met them in the driveway."

"Wow. That's…" Dean shakes his head and glances between his girlfriend and his parents. "Awkward."

"Only if you make it that way, dear," Mary laughs.

Dean gives Beth one very apologetic look and she just shrugs back, not sure what to say in return. It is what it is at this point.

"Last night Miss Beth was here and we did a dance together," Alice explains to her grandparents. "She's my dance teacher and she helps me make dances when she comes over."

"Sweetheart, you know you don't have to say Miss Beth anymore," Beth reminds her as Alice says it all the time. "Remember? We talked about this?"

"Yes, I can call you Miss Beth at dance and Beth everywhere else," Alice repeats the conversations they had.

"And we aren't at dance."

"Ok," Alice agrees to call her just Beth. "Can we show Grandma and Grandpa our dance?"

"Babycakes, calm down," Dean cuts in and looks at his overly excited daughter. "Beth just got here. No making her dance before breakfast."

"Yeah, Al," John smirks. "I mean, Beth _just_ walked through the door. Hasn't been here since last night…"

"John," Mary says in a warning tone.

"Ok, totally comfortable," Beth announces in a jesting tone before looking to Dean at her side. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom… fix myself up a bit. Maybe cry a little."

Dean laughs at her for this one. "Come on, tough girl. You're fine."

"I am, I just need a minute," Beth says with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry about all this," Dean says very quietly, his face apologetic yet loving.

"It's fine," she says, kissing him once. "It's my fault anyways."

"Thought you said it was my fault?" Dean questions her.

"Yeah, that's right," she says as if she just remembered that conversation. "It totally is."

Beth walks away and heads for the bathroom, sighing when she shuts the door. What a fucking disaster.

She looks at herself in the bathroom mirror and groans with disappointment. Her hair is everywhere, her makeup-less face pale and tired, and she looks like a walk of shame personified.

As Beth takes out her small makeup case and a brush, she prepares to do what she can to at least not look like a mess for when Sam arrives. She's been on a couple double dates with him and Madison by now and she knows already the ribbing she's about to take. Sam is a classic older brother, getting far too much joy out of his little brother's embarrassment and, in turn, hers.

This is about to be one weird ass day.

* * *

Pouring herself a second mug of coffee, Beth finds herself shockingly relaxed. The morning went well, better than could be expected, especially after how it started. Beth dove into helping make breakfast by cutting up fruit for a salad. She wasn't allowed to actually cook anything as she has proved to Dean that she wasn't lying. She sucks at cooking.

They ate brunch all the while Sam slipped jokes into the conversation once John filled him in about the morning's start. She was able to defect them, acting as if they didn't bother her at all, which of course rubbed Sam the wrong way. He liked being able to get to people, especially Dean, and Beth noticed that Dean always let it get to him. The younger brother's annoyance is what gave the older one satisfaction so Beth decided weeks ago that as long as she never let Sam get to her then she wins.

Mary and John were so sweet, moving past the odd beginning to get to know her. John was impressed by her car knowledge and Mary was impressed by her demeanor towards Alice. And after it all Beth was quite impressed herself. They are a warm group of people, a true family, and they love each other very much.

"Come sit with me, Beth."

She turns around to find that it's just her and Mary in the kitchen. The rest went out back to play with Alice on her swing set and get Sam's dog Riot out for a little bit.

"More coffee?" Beth asks her.

"No, thank you."

Beth smiles, adds some skim milk to her coffee, and sits at the table with Mary.

"You have a way with kids," Mary points out to her after watching her interact with her granddaughter all morning.

"I get them," Beth admits. "Kids are… hm. They're not jaded or burdened by life and age. They're just really pure, really open and honest as all hell. They're my favorite kind of people." When she can hear Alice laugh loudly in the backyard she looks out to see the girl being tossed in the air by John, him catching her with an equally wide smile on his face. "And Alice is easy. She's a great kid."

"She is," Mary says with an abundance of pride. "But she isn't _that_ easy."

"How do you mean?" Beth asks with confusion.

"She has her issues," Mary says, the fact still painful for her. "And her health is only going to get worse as she gets older."

"I know about her CF," Beth explains. "Dean was very upfront about it. And I am well aware that over time the effects of the disease will make her life very difficult."

"It's a lot to take on," Mary kindly yet seriously points out. "With my son… you don't just get him. He's a package deal and Alice, as sweet and wonderful a little girl as she is, will be a handful to deal with."

"I know…" Beth starts to say but Mary holds out her hand with a sweet smile to make her pause.

"Dean is a good man," Mary continues. "But that girl is his world. She comes first and I don't want to see any woman get disappointed by that."

"Mary, one of the reasons I want to be with Dean is because of how wonderful a father he is," Beth explains. "On our first date he made it clear that nothing will ever come between him and his girl. And I would never want to be that thing. I feel honored to even be included at all. You don't have to worry about that."

Mary nods but stays serious. "The road ahead won't always be pretty. She's fairly healthy now but…" The older woman sighs with how scary the future could be. "She won't always be this way."

Both nods in understanding.

"You have to be ready for that. She will need hospital time and more medications and…" Mary forces a smile. "I just want you to be ready for that. Alice will need you but more than anything… _Dean_ will need you. A lot. That little girl… there aren't words for how important she is to him. She's his world. When things go wrong with her, please… I just need to know that you'll be that rock that he'll need when they go wrong."

"I'd do anything for him."

Beth just looks at Mary with serious concern as the woman looks out through the back window at her family.

"His life has been tough," Mary keeps going. "He's never been able to find where he belongs. He drifted for years. He thought everything would work out with Cassie… but…" Mary sighs as she looks at her son outside. "He's my little boy and I just want to know he's happy and taken care of."

And Beth understands. Dean's her youngest, the one that never knew his place and never made the right decisions until Alice was born. Mary just wants what's best for her son and her granddaughter.

"Mary?" Beth calls to her and she looks over. "I love your son. I do. And I know that sounds crazy because we've only known each other for a couple months but… I know how exceptional he is. I know how exceptional Alice is too. And I know that you just want to make sure I'm good enough for them, but so do I. I can only hope I'm good enough for them." Beth pauses to keep her emotions in check. "I lost both of my parents over four years ago. I ran away and came to Lawrence on a whim that I didn't understand at the time but… I know why I ended up here now. Mary, your family is beautiful and so…"

She gets a little choked up but when Mary's hand lands reassuringly on top of hers as it sits on the table she relaxes. When she smiles at her Beth smiles back and continues.

"It's been a long time since I've had a family at all. And I can relate to Dean not being able to figure out where he belonged for so long. I haven't felt like I've belonged anywhere in years. I haven't had a _home_ in years. But with Dean and Alice? They feel like home. They've been so open and… Mary, I love them. _Both_ of them and without question. And after meeting all of you… I'm just happy to be a part of this in any way."

A set of tears make their way down Beth's cheeks and she pulls her hands into the sleeves of her shirt to wipe them away.

"Great," Beth complains with a lighter tone, despite her choked up state. "I start my day meeting my boyfriend's parents while trying to walk of shame it out of his house and now I'm crying in front of his mother." She laughs a little, Mary joining her. "Did I mention how excellent I am at first impressions?"

Mary laughs louder and a tear or two make their way down her face as well.

"You're doing just fine, honey," Mary assures her, grabbing her hand now.

"You sure about that?"

"Trust me, you are," Mary reassures. "As long as you meant everything you just said then yes, you've done just fine."

Beth smiles wide and nods, happy with how surprisingly well this conversation went.

"…just wash your hands first," they both hear Dean say as the sliding door opens. In he walks with Alice on his hip. He takes one look at the table of women and pauses. "What's going on in here?"

"Nothing," Mary promises him as both women wipe their faces. "Just girl talk."

"Must have been one hell of a talk," he comments almost under his breath as he puts Alice down. "Go wash up."

"Is Beth and grandma sad?" Alice asks up to him as she saw them also.

"No, kiddo," Beth answers to her with a smile. "We're ok. Go wash your hands."

"Ok," Alice shrugs and takes Beth's word for it.

"The hell did you do to her?" Dean has to ask his mother.

"Me!?"

"Yes you," Dean accuses as he walks to the kitchen, taking out the bowl of left over cut fruit. "Beth doesn't even flinch at the sappiest and saddest of chick movies. I know this is on you, mom."

"We were just talking," Beth tells him. "It's nothing. We're fine. And don't just come in here accusing your mother of anything."

Dean looks at her with wide eyes. "You're on her side now?"

"If she knows what's good for her," Mary laughs a little and gets up from the table.

"Surrounded by women ganging up on me," Dean comments to mostly himself as he scoops a helping of fruit salad into a small bowl and walks to the kitchen table with it. He places it at Alice's usual chair. "First you steal Al, now my mother? You're devious."

Beth just looks at him with a grin.

"I doubt she could steal Alice from you, dear," Mary says as she drops her mug into the sink.

"I doubted it too until yesterday," Dean explains, getting a spoon out for Alice. "The two of them ditched me for girl time. They holed up in Alice's room and played with Barbies all night while saying I wasn't allowed."

"Dean, you make the Barbies shoot each other and crash their cars," Beth smirks at him.

"I make them more awesome."

"You make them boyish."

"Whatever," Dean complains as Alice comes down the hallway. "Here." He hands her the spoon and she sits at the table in front of her fruit for a snack. She scoops a bite of watermelon and brings it up to her mouth.

"Wait," Beth strongly warns. "You need your pill."

"Ugh," Alice complains as she was hungry now.

"Hey, you eat that before your pill and you'll regret it," Beth warns, knowing she will.

Alice smiles and leans forward, bringing the spoon closer to her mouth playfully.

"Don't!" Beth says with a hint of silliness. "Don't do it."

Alice gets the spoon closer.

"Ah!" Beth calls out, standing up and walking to Alice's chair.

Alice almost gets the spoon to her mouth and Beth quickly bends down and takes the bite herself, stopping the girl from eating it without her pill first.

"Miss Beth!" Alice giggles.

"You have to wait!" Beth says with a mouthful of fruit and tickles the little girl's waist.

As Alice giggles Beth backs away before it becomes an all-out tickle war.

"Just wait one second, kiddo," Beth tells her, kissing the little girl's forehead once before walking to the kitchen counter. She takes the prescription bottle that's sitting in it's usual place and pours a single pill into her hand.

"Here," Dean says to her, holding out a glass of juice to Beth. He had been getting it ready for Alice to take her pill anyways.

"Thanks," she smiles back at him and retakes her seat next to Alice. "Ok, take that and you can eat all the fruit in the world."

Alice takes the pill from her and downs it like always.

"What do you say to Beth?" Dean asks from the counter as he snaps the cover onto the big bowl of fruit salad.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Beth says in return with a grin.

Dean turns to put the bowl away in the refrigerator and feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks to the side and sees his mother smiling at him.

"She's perfect," Mary whispers to him and kisses his cheek. "Don't screw this up."

"What!?" Dean says as she walks away. "What do you take me for?"

"My son," she jokes right back and heads outside with the rest of her boys.

Dean takes a second to watch his daughter talking to his girlfriend that just impressed the life out of his parents this morning.

He can't help but agree. Beth is perfect.

* * *

_**One Year Later**_

"I am officially super full," Beth declares as she sits back in their usual booth at Annie's.

"Me too!" Alice agrees as she sits back exactly the same way.

"You two are wimps," Dean name calls and finishes his last bite of chicken sandwich.

"Nope, you're just a glutton, dear," Beth grins wide at him in jest.

"Ha-ha," Dean says back.

"Daddy, can I give her the present now?" Alice asks out of nowhere and Beth's eyes open wide, looking at Dean with shock.

"Subtle," Dean rolls his eyes and finishes his bite.

"Why do you have a present for me?" Beth asks with confusion to the little girl that just spilled the beans.

"It's your anniversary!" she says loudly and with exciting. "Daddy said he came here with you a year ago and that's why we got you a present."

"Is that why Alice isn't in school right now?" she narrows her eyes at Dean. She's in first grade this year so no more half days of school. When Beth arrived she was shocked to see Alice out of school and in the diner having lunch with them. And as much as she adores her Beth had wanted some time with Dean to herself today. She needed to talk to him about something important without little ears around.

"She wanted to be the one to give you your gift," Dean shrugs, his anxiety heightening even if he's not at all very nervous about her reaction to it.

"Huh," Beth nods. "And sorry I forgot about it being a year today. I've been a little preoccupied this week… or a lot preoccupied…. And I'm not much of an anniversaries person."

"One of the reasons I love ya'," Dean jokes back, appreciating how non-girly she can be most of the time, before looking at Alice. "Can you wait a couple more minutes? Remember, I have to give her mine first."

"Fine," Alice says with exasperation, crossing her arms.

"Drama queen," he calls his daughter while reaching into his pocket. Dean looks at Beth and smiles wide. "I got you something small from just me."

He holds out a set of keys for her to take.

Beth looks at him funny. "Are these house keys?"

"Yes. I think you…"

"You're gonna live with us!" Alice jumps right in, not able to hold back.

"If she wants to," Dean stresses to her before looking back at Beth. "We talked it over and Al and I both want you to live with us. We think you should move in."

"Seriously?" Beth asks, not having seen this coming.

"Very seriously," Dean smiles back, waiting for her true reaction.

Beth runs her fingers over the cold metal keys, the small gift having such a huge meaning.

"My lease is up in a month anyways," she says with a bright grin. "I could probably make this work."

"You're gonna live with us!?" Alice asks, bouncing in her seat.

"Yes. I would love to."

"Yes!" Alice cheers as she sees this as one of her best friends moving in with her. One more instant playmate for her to have around all the time.

While Alice celebrates, Dean locks eyes with Beth. Both smile wide at each other, excited to make their relationship more permanent and to take a step towards creating their future.

"Can I give her my present now!?" Alice asks while she turns towards her father with huge happiness.

"Yes," Dean says, his heart in his throat as he takes another item out of his pocket. "Here, hold it like this." He helps her hold the gift just right while their hands are below the Formica table and out of Beth's sight. "You remember what you're gonna say?"

"Yes," Alice grins wide to her father and gets down from her seat at the booth.

Beth glances at Dean suspiciously, not understanding what is happening, but when she looks back to Alice standing in front of her with her gift held out in her hand she stops breathing.

With wide eyes she looks over the small box, the top opened to reveal the simple, clean, and quite impressive diamond ring sitting in it.

"Oh my God," Beth whispers to herself as she looks into Alice's eyes.

"Beth, will you marry my Daddy?"

Beth takes a second to register everything that's happening right now. She looks to Dean as he grins nervously at her.

"She picked it out herself… with a little guidance," Dean lets her know.

She then peers back to Alice. Her eyes are lit up as she waits to hear an answer.

She nods her head before she can talk. "Yes." It barely comes out. "Of course."

"Yay!" Alice shouts loudly and jumps up onto the booth seat that Beth is on. She hugs the woman hard, her tiny arms around her neck tightly.

She looks at Dean as she bites back the tears she's threatening to let free. She doesn't want to be sitting this far from him all of a sudden.

Beth gets up from her side of the booth, Alice in her hold, and drops down next to him. She kisses him right away, so excited with how this day has gone… even if it isn't the way she planned it to go.

"I love you," Beth tells him, her hand on his cheek as she looks at him. "So much."

"I love you too," Dean grins wider than he ever has, far too happy with how this worked out. They never talked much past her someday moving in so this was a huge leap he was taking today.

As Alice grabs Beth's right hand, Beth not telling her it's the wrong one, she tries to put the ring on her finger.

One glance at Dean once the ring is on her hand and she no longer is upset that she didn't get to talk to him alone today like she'd hoped to. That proposal was perfection and without Alice there it would have felt incomplete anyways. She now just wants to take the day to enjoy the newly made engagement with her to-be husband and step-daughter and make plans for her to move in.

She can tell him about the baby on the way tomorrow. What's one more day anyways?


	9. Tiny Dancer (Part 8)

_**Twenty-one years later**_

"And do you, Alice Cassidy Winchester, take Leonard Marcus Jackson, to be your lawfully wedded husband…"

As the justice of the peace continues on, Beth tightens her grip on her husband's hand as she sits next to him in the front row of white chairs set up on the grassy area of the country club. When he looks over at her, his green eyes so filled with fear and love and total confusion, Beth just smiles and bites back the tears. Their little girl is getting married. It's a lot to take.

Dean lifts her hand in his and kisses the back of it in order to say thank you for helping get him past this terrifying day.

"I do," Alice says with a bright white smile at the man she's standing across from as both their families and friends watch on.

And Dean hates every second of it. He loves his daughter so damn much it hurts and despite actually truly liking Leon and thinking they make a really wonderful match… he hates this.

Alice isn't his little girl anymore. Hell, she isn't even his girl anymore. She's Leon's girl. That's way too hard to handle for him. He's dreaded this day from the second she was born and put into his arms for the first time.

And Beth knows it. When Alice came home from college her junior winter break talking about the super cute boy she met Beth was well aware that this was going to be the one for her… and the one to completely crush Dean. She talked to him, always helped keep his suspicions and upset in check, and made sure Leon felt welcomed in their home.

But this right here is the most difficult part.

"Then by the power vested in me by the state Kansas, I pronounce you man and wife."

Right then Beth thinks the bones in her hand are going to snap with the vice grip Dean has it in.

"You may kiss the bride."

When Alice and Leonard share their first kiss as a married couple Beth grins with pride and love as a lone tear falls down her cheek. She couldn't be more excited for the girl she's been more than happy to help raise.

"You almost made it."

When Beth looks to her other side she rolls her eyes. "Do you have to be such a jerk right now?"

"You have to be such a sap right now?"

She pats his face twice with a wide grin before wiping her tear. "Just wait until you get married, Paul" she tells her son. "I'll be even worse."

He sighs and lets it go, knowing she's totally right.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time, Mister and Missus Leonard Jackson!"

The crowd of close friends and family all get on their feet and clap as Leon raises his hand clasped in Alice's, both laughing and grinning like completely love struck idiots. They look so happy, so in love, and when Alice grabs Leon's face for another kiss Dean washes a hand down his face and plasters on the best fake smile he has.

On their way back down the aisle Alice pauses. She locks eyes with her Daddy, the one man that will always hold a special place in her heart whether married or not, and lets go of Leon's hand. She walks right up to Dean on the end of the aisle and hugs him so tight it hurts.

"You're doing better than I thought you would, Daddy," she says quietly to just him in his ear.

"I'm fine, babycakes," he says back and hugs her a little harder, eyes closing for a split second as he copes with his attachment to her.

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," she laughs a little before ending the hug. She grabs his shoulders and looks up at his much taller height. "Hey, you're always going to be the first man in my life."

"Yeah…"

"I love you, daddy," Alice tells him, her bright hazel eye looking up to him with total love and he swears for a second he can see the five year old her looking right back at him. She grew up way too fast.

"I love you too, sweetie," he responds with a deep breath to hold it together. She kisses his cheek just before Leon grabs her hand and they make their way down the aisle and into a new life together.

One that Dean suddenly has a significantly smaller roll in. And it kills him.

* * *

"Maybe _I_ need to get married," Paul says to his parents as the three sit at their dinner table in the reception hall, people dancing on the dance floor and laughter heard over the loud music.

"Maybe you should find a girl that'll wanna look at your ugly mug the rest of your life first," Dean comments with a light attitude, glancing at his son.

"He looks just like you," Beth reminds him with a laugh.

"Yeah, and I don't know how you do it," Dean shoots right back, smiling at her before kissing her cheek once.

"With a smile on my face," she responds.

"And puke in my mouth," Paul speaks up. "Come on, guys. Take it down. We're at a respectable event."

"And with our so respectable son nonetheless," Beth jokes to him.

"Trust me, Paul. You ain't ready for marriage," Dean informs his son with absolute certainty.

"How do you know?'

"Because you're nineteen… and you're just like me when I was nineteen," Dean reminds him. "I know how you think, how you act… I know all about you."

"Oh you think so, huh?" Paul disbelieves.

"Sadly…" Dean glances to one of Alice's good friends, Cara, across the room. She's been eyeing Paul all night and Dean's been more than aware that his son has taken notice. "I'm sure I do."

"Come on, Daddy!"

Dean looks up the table to see a beautiful woman in a white dress nearly running over to him.

"Al, I _don't_ dance…" he starts to grip but she grabs his hand anyways.

"Too damn bad!" she laughs and yanks him up. "I just want one dance. I didn't do the father-daughter dance for you and right now no one's watching us. Come on."

'The Way You Look Tonight' plays and with the hopeful look on her face Dean gives in.

"One dance," he warns her, already dreading this moment.

"I didn't get him drunk enough for more than one song, honey," Beth laughs from the place at the table next to where Dean had been sitting. "I needed to get him more whiskey."

"Don't encourage her," Dean warns his wife as his daughter pulls him onto the dance floor.

Beth and Paul sit together, watching Dean awkwardly sway to the music as he and his adult girl talk a mile a minute just like any other day. They never grew apart and they've been nothing short of best friends their entire lives together.

"Has he ever said no to Al once?" Paul asks, the jealousy in his voice clear as day.

"Baby, Alice and your father have been through a lot together. You know that," Beth reminds her son that sometimes wishes he and his father had the bond that Alice does with Dean.

"I know. He's just so hard on me though…"

"I am well aware," Beth admits easily. Dean has always been very tough on Paul, even as a boy. "But he sees a lot of himself in you and he was a total troublemaker. It's always been out of love and out of wanting you to be better than he was."

"Dad turned out just fine," Paul nearly scoffs, having never seen anything but a successful family man from his father.

"Eventually," Beth nods. "But when you have kids someday you'll get it. You'll just want them to have it better than you ever did. That's all."

Paul sighs and gives up. As much as he and his father get along really well it was never what he and Alice had.

"Plus… you're a total momma's boy anyways," Beth smiles at him knowingly. They've always been tighter than tight without being overbearing on Beth's part.

"Shut up," Paul says with slight embarrassment.

"Shut up? Be nicer to your best friend," Beth jokes right back and they both share a quick laugh. It was true to a degree though.

"So… I give it a week," Paul says to his mother, his big green eyes lit up with amusement.

Beth looks at him while appalled. "How dare you say that about your sister at her wedding!?"

"Ma, I wasn't talking about Al," Paul smirks just like his father does. "I was talking about dad. I give it a week before he tries to move into Al's new house with her."

Beth swats her boy's shoulder and laughs. "You're a jerk."

"No, I just know dad well enough," he rebuts.

"Yeah, it's been a tough one on him," Beth comments with a little bit of sadness while twirling the base of her glass of pinot noir. She's had to watch her husband mope about this for the eleven months Alice has been engaged. He never knew how to handle this major moment and it hurt her to see how difficult it's been on him.

"But it's been tough on you too," Paul points out as he pulls his mother in by an arm around her shoulders. "Don't lie."

"It has," she nods and leans into her nearly twenty year old son that has always seemed to be older than his age. "But I still have my little man, don't I?"

When she pinches his cheek he snatches her hand away. "Not cool, ma."

"What, are you afraid that your mother will embarrass you in front of Alice's hot friends at her wedding?"

"Shut up," she shrugs off with a slight blush on his face.

"You afraid I'll do something like this?" Beth keeps going and presses a kiss to his cheek before rubbing the lipstick she left behind to wipe it off.

"Nah, leave it," Paul leans away from her hand.

"Why?"

"Makes me look like some chick here really dug me," he jokes, his playful smile back in place. "Gotta get the ladies intrigued, right?"

"Where do you get this from?" she asks, not knowing why he's such a damn flirt.

"I'm just your handsome son that likes the way Cara's been looking at me all night." He glances at Alice's best friend as the woman eyes him over, liking what she sees. "I gotta get her more interested."

Beth catches the moment and grabs his chin to angle his face at his mom. "You're my little boy. Stop flirting with girls in front of me."

Paul laughs a little and pulls his mother in again, his arm around her shoulders. She once more leans into him and sighs. Her little boy. She has always just adored her one and only biological child. Sure, she wishes she could have had another but she and Dean just couldn't conceive a second time together. It was odd considering how easy it'd been the first time but she's more than ok with just Paul and Alice. She loves them so much it hurts and the tight knit bond the four of them have always shared has been more than enough for her and everything a person dreams of for their own family.

"I still remember the day I met Al. She was so cute with her big, curly hair and bright eyes. It's crazy to think she just got married."

"Well, luckily Lenny-boy is a good dude," Paul comments.

Beth looks to him with wide eyes. "Coming from the overprotective brother!? Seriously?" He's been tough on Leon since they met. Even at the age of fourteen Paul had his eye on him. It was nothing like Dean's evil eye but it was still more than a good man like Leon deserved.

"Yeah. I mean, I'll break his neck if he ever does her wrong…"

"Easy."

"But I don't think he will," Paul says with honesty.

"He won't," Beth says with confidence.

"Oh no?"

"Nope. I can see it. He adores her. They're perfect."

Paul laughs at her sappy moment. "You're such a girl."

"And you're such a brat," she elbows him a bit and sits up again, taking a sip of her wine. "Where's your drink?"

"Excuse me?" Paul looks at his mother with sheer disbelief. He's underage and with how hard she and Dean have been on him his whole life this was the last thing he expected to hear.

"Paul… you puked twice in the middle of the night two nights ago when you thought you were sneaking quietly back in the house after curfew."

"You knew!?" he asks, eyes bugging with shock.

"Sweetie, you're as quiet as an elephant in a mine field when you drink. And I know a lot more about you than you realize," she assures him and sips her wine, knowing she's pegging him.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Beth huffs a laugh. "Before I met your dad… he was a party animal. And as much as it scares me, you're just like him. I know what you do but you've never once driven home while drunk or done anything harmful to others. You seem to be responsible when you do your young and free thing so… I trust you."

Paul blows out a hard breath. "Whoa. Never saw this one coming, ma."

"Just continue to make smart choices while being dumb and don't make a habit out of it, ok? Once in a while at best," Beth bargains with her overly charismatic son. "And dad won't know. You screw up, though…"

"And dad will own my nuts," Paul finishes for her.

"He'll keep them in a jar on the mantel," she knowingly adds in.

"Like a trophy." Paul shudders jokingly.

"Hey!" a partially drunk voice calls out as Beth feels a kiss to her cheek.

"Uncle Sammy!" Paul cheers out as his uncle takes a seat next to his mom. "Looking sharp."

"And a little off kilter," Beth laughs as he nearly misses his chair seat with his tipsy state.

"How are we doing over here?" Sam grins with half a glass of beer in his hold and a loosened tie around his neck.

"Just reminiscing."

"About Frog Face?" Sam asks, eyeing his favorite niece as she dances with his brother.

"You two are still the weirdest fucking people…"

"Language!" Beth calls out and smacks her son on the shoulder.

"Corporal punishment!" Paul counters and holds his arm as if the hit actually hurt. "Uncle Sam, tell her! That's illegal!"

"Eh, I'd probably represent your mom on that one," Sam jokes with another gulp of beer.

"What the hell!?"

"You have a gutter mouth," Sam shrugs. "You deserved it and I could easily get that to hold up in court."

Beth grins and holds her fist out to Sam. He bumps it.

"So where you been, Uncle Sam?" Paul asks. "You disappeared for a while there."

"I was just…" Sam's face goes a little red and he gets flustered. His eyes wander to Lou, Beth's best friend, walking back into the room while smoothing down her dress. She spots him and winks, making him smile. "Making new friends."

Lou walks to the bar to grab a drink and Sam checks out her ass in her tight dress. After divorcing Madison, the last five years spent fighting and falling apart, Sam's damn glad Beth's best friend was there to collect a couple pieces in a quiet, off the beaten path closet and remind him that being single isn't so bad.

"Oh? Who?" Beth asks, wondering who he would have met that day.

"Just… someone," Sam says inconspicuously as a new song starts, changing to 'Stand By Me'. "That's my cue to save Dean's ass I think," Sam announces and he stands up while drinking down the rest of his beer. He places the empty glass on the table before winking to Beth and walking out on the floor.

She watches him ask to cut in, Dean looking slightly relieved as Sam takes Alice's hand and twirls her once.

"You better get a move on," Beth tells her son. "Dad'll be back soon to stop you from having a single, measly beer at your sister's wedding."

Paul gives her a lopsided grin of thanks before taking off.

"Where's he off to?" Dean asks, spying his son hustling from the table before he could get there.

She watches Dean sit down, grinning. "Bathroom," she lies for her son's benefit. "So, how was the whole dancing thing?"

"Terrible," Dean complains and sits back down into his seat and takes a sip of his whiskey. "But worth it."

* * *

Once Paul gets to the bar in the back of the ballroom, he glances back once to his parents. They're both sitting there smiling and he can see that his dad is occupied enough. Coast is clear.

He walks up to the bar with a confident grin. He's learned at a young age that confidence is everything in getting what you want.

"A beer," he says to the lovely young lady behind the bar. "Please."

She grins at him and pour him one from the tap. "You look like family," she says to him knowingly.

"I'm the brother of the lovely bride," Paul answers easily.

"Well, she looked beautiful today."

"Yeah… she did, didn't she?" Paul smiles genuinely.

"Yes. And that must mean that you're Paul."

Taken aback by the bartender knowing his name, Paul just huff a laugh. "That would be me."

She hands him his pint. "Someone was looking for you."

"Who?"

"Not sure who he was," she shrugs her shoulders. "He said if I saw Paul to tell him to meet him outside."

Paul just pauses and waits for the punch line. One doesn't come. "You're fucking with me."

"No," she assures him. "Just head out front. He'll be there waiting for you I think."

Paul turns to the front exit and eyes it. The lighting looks quite dim out there and it feels wrong. When he looks back at the cute bartender she's no longer behind the bar. He can see her walking away, rounding the corner into a hallway from the ballroom to the lobby and she's gone.

"What the hell?" Paul says under his breath and once more looks to the exit door to the front parking lot. Well now he's just too intrigued not to go.

Taking a sip of beer, Paul makes his way to the door. He walks through the propped open doorway and looks around. Off twenty or so feet is the silhouette of person he can't make out standing under the only lit streetlight in the entire parking lot.

"Hello?" Paul asks the mystery person as he walks to him. He gets within five feet of him and stops. "Uh, were you the dude looking for me?"

The figure turns around and looks right into Paul's eyes. The man smiles wide, the look both serene and calm yet extremely excited.

"I've been looking for you for more years that I could count…."

* * *

"So, you held it together shockingly well," Beth says to Dean as they're dancing in the middle of a group of people on the dance floor within the last minutes of the reception.

"If you say so," Dean laments, glancing at his Alice dancing with her new husband, her face lit up and just so in love.

"Have you ever seen her this happy?" Beth challenges.

Clenching his jaw for a quick second, Dean answers, "No."

"I think you forget what it's like to be in her shoes."

"Those things would never fit me," Dean jokes. "And they'd clash with my outfit."

"Smartass," Beth jokes and runs a hand over his shoulder while thy sway together. "You remember when we met?"

"How could I forget, Miss Beth?" Dean grins, remembering how cute she was in her tight dance clothing and big wide grin on her younger face. God, she was smoking.

"And you remember how quickly we fell for each other? How we got married and had the greatest day?"

"And you were seven months pregnant," Dean laughs.

"Greatest mistake I've ever made," Beth tells him.

"Yeah, he's a good kid, ain't he?"

"The best."

"We got lucky," Dean nods before ducking down to kiss his wife. He then eyes her over quickly, checking out the form-fitting blue dress she's in. Even at the age of forty-seven she's impressively beautiful. She's something to behold and she's all his. "Did I tell you how good you looked today?"

"No," she laughs.

"I didn't?" Dean asks, thinking he must have.

"You've been too nervous and upset all day to look at me, honey," she tells him honestly. "But thank you. I tried."

"You don't need to try," she returns with and she smirks right back.

"You ladies' man, you," Beth grins. "And you cleaned up quite well yourself."

As she runs her hand through his shorter hair just above his ear he nods. "Suits get me laid, what can I say?"

"You're assuming you're getting laid tonight?"

"Absolutely."

"You know what they say about assuming, don't you?" she points out.

"That I should do it because we are definitely getting it on after this day is finally over."

"Absolutely," Beth laughs brightly before leaning up into him, kissing her husband good once. When she pulls away and locks eye with him, her face just an inch away from his, she tells him, "I love you."

Dean smiles back but before he can return the sentiment he's interrupted.

"I need to talk to you."

Dean turns his head to see his son Paul speaking quietly to him, his hand on Dean's shoulder and a very serious face in place.

"Right now?" Dean questions, never letting go of his wife.

"Yes," Paul says flatly, his voice different, sharper. His eyes aren't the usual bright green and happy they usually are either. They're darker and serious. "Now."

"Paul, sweetie… are you alright?" Beth asks, rubbing his upper arm with concern.

"I'm fine," he assures her stiffly. "I just need to talk to my father for a moment."

"Your _father_?" Beth repeats with shock, never once having heard Paul refer to his dad that way.

"Dad," Paul says directly to Dean. "Can you and Uncle Sam meet me in the groomsmen's room?"

"You need Sam?"

"Yes."

The serious look in Paul's expression, a seriousness he never has, makes Dean worried. "Kiddo, is everything alright? You're kind of freaking me out here."

Paul smiles oddly. "Everything is fine. Get Sam."

Their son walks away from them with a stiff posture and both are at a total loss.

"I'm gonna get Sam and figure out what the hell that's all about," Dean says to his wife with great concern. Whoever that person was… it wasn't his Paul.

"Please do," Beth says, her worry all over her face as she looks up at him.

"I'll be right back," Dean says, a small smile on his lips as he leans down to kiss her quickly. He then runs off to find his brother.

* * *

"So… he just wants us to go meet him?" Sam asks as he follows his brother down the country club hallway after being told to follow him.

"That's what he said. He wanted to talk to us," Dean repeats as he turns the knob on the groomsmen's room. "He was acting weird."

"Drunk?"

"Uh, maybe," he responds, knowing his boy well enough. He pulls the door open and sees Paul standing on the other side of the room, facing the back wall. "Alright. The gang's all here. What's this all about Paul?"

"I'm not Paul," the young man informs him. "I'm not your son."

"Jesus, he _is_ drunk," Dean comments and washes a hand down his face. "It's your sister's wedding. You couldn't take it easy just for tonight?"

"I've not been drinking," Paul's voice responds, still looking at the wall.

"Paul, dude… it's fine. I'm a little drunk too," Sam laughs slightly. "Why don't you take a load off for a few and hang back here."

"Samuel," Paul says and turns around from the wall to finally face them. "I am sorry for what has been done to you in the past. And I am sorry for what you must now do."

Paul walks right up to Sam and places a hand on his forehead. In the blink of an eye Sam's disappeared into thin air.

"Whoa!" Dean punches out with a sharp step back and a lot of fear in his face. Sam disappeared. Poof. His son made his brother disappear. "Paul! What the hell!? What the fuck was that!?"

"I told you," Paul calmly says as he steps in front of Dean. He puts a hand on Dean's shoulder and the older man flinches hard, thinking he was next, but nothing happens. "I am not Paul. Not anymore."

"What!?" Dean panics, looking around the room frantically for an answer, looking for where Sam is.

"Calm down, Dean," Paul assures in a soothing tone, gripping both the man's shoulders as he starts to panic. "Deep breaths. I will explain everything if you are willing to listen."

Dean's wide green eyes stare at his son with absolute horror and confusion.

"Dean, how well do you know the Bible?"

* * *

"They're taking way too long," Alice complains, walking down the facility hall with her mother.

"I know," Beth says with suspicion, not liking Paul's actions when he came to get Dean and Sam to speak with him. "But they're all a little flaky."

"And weird."

"And men," Beth laughs with obvious worry.

"I bet they're…"

Before Alice could finish her sentence a bright white light bursts through the seams of the groomsman's room doorway about ten feet ahead of them. The light is blinding and makes the two women stop in their tracks, shielding their eyes. Immediately the piercing, high-pitched sound hits and they both cover their ears from the pain. It all quickly culminates in an explosion of light and sound.

When the silence after hits they both stare at each other with blown-wide eyes.

"Oh God, Paul!?" Beth yells out as she starts to run. "Dean!?"

"Daddy!?" Alice yells right along.

Beth yanks the door open and comes to a skid stop when she gets through the doorway, Alice running into her.

"What… Dean?" she questions to her husband as he's on his knees on the floor, doubled over. The room is a blown out mess, the furniture upturned and all the lights and lamps burst and blinking. Paul stands over Dean, looking down at him and through the flashes of the broken lights both Alice and Beth can see dark shadow outlines of big, bold black wings extending from Dean's back.

"_Daddy_!?" Alice's horrified voice calls out as she panics with total fear for what she sees.

Slowly Dean's body stands upright, the black wings unfolding and stretching outward. Paul snaps his fingers and the lights turn on despite the bulbs all being broken in the room.

Paul and Dean both turn to the women of their family with stern faces.

"Your family is exceptional," Paul says to Beth. "_You_ are exceptional. Elizabeth… you are the reason for it all."

"Paul, honey, you're scaring me," Beth says, her lip quivering as she feels the icy grip of true fright all over. This is bad.

"I'm not Paul. You've done your job and you've done it well," her son's voice tells her, looking right at her with foreign eyes. "I am forever grateful for that. And I will be able to fight the truly brutal evil this world is about to feel because of that."

"I… I… wha…" Beth stutters. "Paul, please stop it."

"Elizabeth, you shouldn't be so afraid," Dean's tone tells her as he walks to her with an odd smile, his hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be just fine… and it's because of you and Dean. We will bring forth the kingdom of God and you and you daughter will be happy there. You will rest with comfort and happiness. You've earned that."

"No," Beth cries as her family frightens her to such a strong point that she can't comprehend. "What is this? What's happening?"

"Where's Sam, daddy?" Alice asks, looking around as she grabs ahold of her step-mother's forearm with similar fear.

"Alice," his voice says her name in a way she's never heard before. Dean's hand comes to cup her face but she feels no comfort in it for the first time in her life. "Your father loves you with all he has ever had in him. He's doing this so that you and your mother can remain alive and well. He's doing this for you and to help your brother during the most difficult time any man could ever encounter. He didn't want him to be alone during this."

"You're scaring me," Alice cries, her wedding makeup running as she looks up at her very best friend.

"I would never intend to do that," he assures him, taking a step back.

"What happened to Sam?" Beth asks again, fearful for the man's life after what she's seen in this room.

"Sam's part in this is… tricky," Paul answers her. "He needed to find his true self so I sent him to his true self."

"What does that mean?" Beth questions.

"Lucifer," Dean tells her. "And I will stop him. Do not worry."

"We must go," Paul says to them, a hand on Beth's cheek and his other on Alice's cheek. He smiles with kindness and sympathy. "Your loved ones are doing a wonderful thing. They are playing out the story the way it was meant to be. Rejoice. Be proud. And live well until we come back for you once it is over."

With that Paul and Dean disappear from the room, leaving just Beth and Alice there alone on what was supposed to be a beautiful, joyful day for their family.

* * *

Snapping awake while gasping, both Dean and Lizzy fly up until seated on the floor of the padded room in the mental institution with shock.

"Fuck!" Lizzy shouts, breathing hard while pressing her hands into her chest. She looks around wildly in her startles state, catching Dean's equally as shocked eyes for a moment before moving on to the angel sitting Indian-style in the middle of the room, smiling casually and looking calm and relaxed. "What the fuck, Cass!?

"Did you see it?" he asks with a half-smile, his eyes clearly conveying his happiness and pride to have shared that with them.

"See it!? We _lived_ it!" Dean shouts from his spot, equally as enraged. "That felt real!" His anger is fueled by everything he just saw and experienced getting ripped from his hands… especially a daughter he never had. He got to know her, raise her, love her… and now she's never existed. The whiplash from this in making his head spin. And heart heavy.

"It _was_ real… in a way," Castiel vaguely explains.

"What the _hell_ was it!?" Lizzy punches out, demanding an explanation.

"It was my favorite version," the angel admits with a light, happy grin and a nod. "It always was my favorite. It was just so quiet and lovely, very much what I think you two would want most if you could. It was normal and I know how you love normal deep down. Ah, my favorite."

"Your favorite _what_!? What the fuck is going on here!?" Lizzy fears, sitting on her heels on the floor and staring at him, ire and sadness and longing filling her heart all at the same time, the mixture pummeling her emotional wellbeing.

"My favorite path," he answers casually and as if it isn't a quite loaded statement. "I liked it very much, almost went with it. I was so very close to choosing it…."

"English!" Dean shouts, balled up fists at his side as he stands up, unable to take everything while sitting. Cass isn't making sense and Dean needs answers after having felt all he just did and having it torn down in a snap. And Alice… that little girl's face is burned into his brain right now.

"Ah, well, you see…." He sighs and pauses, looking between the two of them. "You were destined to be. Heaven knew long before either of you existed that Elizabeth Noonan and Dean Winchester were to be together, to love greatly and to create life that would save this world from evil. You were the chosen two."

Lizzy sighs. "Nothing like knowing that you _have_ to love somebody."

"_Have to_… no," Castiel denies right away. "Oh, Elizabeth, you look at this all wrong still. You have the gift of all gifts. True love is nothing to look at with distaste or disappointment. True love is rare and bestowed upon only the lucky few."

"Cass, you _forced_ us together," Dean cuts in with slight anger still running. "We never had a choice. If it doesn't work out then it doesn't work out. And why the hell would Heaven care if we separate at this point, huh? Sammy's already here. We did what you dicks wanted."

Castiel nods solemnly. "Ah, yes. I will admit, Heaven is done with their concern for you both as a pair. Your connection is no longer a priority to them, you're right about that."

"If they don't care then what's all this about!?" Dean shouts with building anger. "Why the hell did you put us through seeing that and… and getting to know certain new people only to take it all away!?"

Lizzy's face wrinkles immediately. She feels the loss of Alice too but she knows how hard it's hitting Dean. It may not have been their actual lives but that girl was real. She was Dean's blood. She was their family.

Castiel cocks his head and looks at Dean funny, surprised that the man doesn't get it. "Well… _I care_."

Dean and Lizzy just stare at him with total confusion.

"No matter what, I wanted you both to be together," Castiel explains himself. "Once you met each other, doesn't matter the reality in which you met, there was no possible happy outcome if you weren't together. This love, this bond that you have, it was made to last. I do not understand what happened when I was… gone… but this is not something I will allow. Your lives, in the end, were going to be difficult no matter which path I chose but I chose this specific one that you are living now for a very good reason."

"Which is?" Lizzy asks, lost.

And Castiel's face drops. "You still don't understand."

"Understand what!?" she tries with frustration.

"What did it feel like?" Castiel asks. "In what I just showed, in a reality in which you were both just the normal, boring humans that I know you want to be deep down, what did it feel like to meet Dean again?"

For the first time since waking up in that padded room, Lizzy's face drops from wrinkled and confused to calm, a smile desperately wanting to pull across her face. The questions hits her hard. Her eyes slide to the side for a quick second, catching Dean just briefly before turning back to the angel. "I… I'm not sure I know how to say it. It was really… it was good. Really good." She lets the smile break onto her face after that. And it did feel good. It felt far better than good.

"Do you remember how you felt? When you knew Dean was someone significant to you?"

She hesitates, the need to keep it bottled after all the fighting and after breaking it off. But she knows she has to talk if Castiel is keeping them there until she does. "It felt like… it felt like it did when I knew I loved him in reality. It felt right and… certain," Lizzy tells him. "But what does it matter? We aren't working out right now…."

"But you're _supposed_ to work out," Castiel emphasized. "Do you really think that I would choose a future for the two of you that would lead to this fracture in your bond? I would _never_ do that, not when you need to be a united front for Samuel, and I most certainly never foresaw it going this way."

"Wait, I'm lost here," Dean jumps in. "Why the hell would you choose this… this crappy _this_ over what you just showed us!? That was way better than what we have."

And Castiel's frustration sets in once more. "You did not pay enough attention to the ending of that story."

"You're saying you chose this shitty life for us because… the ending is better?"

And the Cass of yesteryear shows up. He face morphs from distressed to angered. "Would you prefer an ending where you are Michael's vessel, Sam is Lucifer's, you battle it out, nearly destroy the Earth before God himself tries to pick up the pieces all while inhabiting your very own son?"

They don't say a word. What can they say? He makes a really good point.

"I feel I made the correct choice." Castiel grits his teeth. "I will forever stand by it, even if neither of you agree."

They both look away with shame. They should have seen it more clearly. They focused on the good, the normal that they both have always craved beyond anything else. That ending, seeing their boy get taken over by the Second Coming… their lives were over. That was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to either of them.

"Maybe that experience wasn't enough," Castiel starts to think aloud.

"It was plenty," Lizzy assures him, not yet able to process everything she just saw. Her life was so happy and so beautiful. She had Dean, a home, her son, even a step daughter that, now that they're not in the alternate reality, she misses dearly. She was a so sweet and Lizzy did love her when she was experiencing that life. "I just… it's not real, Cassie. It's not _our_ reality. Maybe in that other one… maybe we were perfect. But this one is different. Things aren't nearly as sunny…."

"That doesn't matter," Castiel moves closer to her and sits down facing her. He picks up her hand and holds it tightly. "It never mattered what reality I chose for you, Elizabeth. The point was that as long as you had Dean you'd be happy, loved, and your life would be good enough that I could accept it as your path because I care about you. This… this rift you two have created… it's not right. And you are _not_ happy. I won't accept that for you. You deserve more."

Lizzy's eyes water. "That's sweet. And I love that you want that for me. But maybe you chose wrong, Cass. Maybe this wasn't meant to work out in this reality. Maybe…."

Castiel is done. He presses his fingers to her forehead without warning when he can't bear her upset.

"Cass! Damn it, what now!?" Dean shouts and runs for Lizzy as she falls backwards onto the floor, out like a light. What he plans to do to help her he doesn't know. He knows he can't wake her, not under an angel whammy, but instincts are strong.

Castiel turns quickly and presses his hand to Dean's forehead before he can reach Lizzy, the man dropping like a sack of bricks onto the floor next to her.

Castiel sets his jaw and looks them both over for a moment, sighing at the stubborn humans he's surrounded himself with as they are infuriating at best.

Too bad for them, Castiel can be just as stubborn when he's feeling righteous. "If you refuse to see it… then I'll just try again."


	10. Glitter and Ink (Part 1)

**Author's Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

"Alright, now _this_ is what I'm talking about!" Dean cheers as he steps out of the party bus and onto the street, his arms wide open as he looks up excitedly at the neon sign flashing the words 'The South Pole'. "Ha-ha!" He claps his hands and rubs his palms together with a huge smile on his face.

Turning around, he watches his little brother Sam step out of the bus as he looks over the building with slight dislike. "Dude, seriously?"

"Yes!" Dean answers, grabbing his taller brother's shoulders and shaking a little. "It's your twenty-first birthday, Sammy! Loosen up and have some fun!"

"You should probably listen to him, man," Sam's friend Ash tells him, pounding down the rest of his PBR can before crushing it in his hand. "He'll force you into having fun anyways. Easier to just go with it and enjoy the beautiful women willing to take their clothes off for our money."

"They _are_ just trying to earn a living after all," Brady pipes in as he pats Sam on the shoulder as he disembarks from the bus with loud, thumping music and strobe lights flashing. "Think of it this way; you could be supporting the future doctors of America just looking to pay off some loans."

"I'm _sure_ that's the case for most of them," Sam bitches right back before turning back to his older brother. "Look, this is way more your scene than mine, Dean…"

"You turn twenty-one once…" Dean starts to excuse but Sam keeps going.

"And I'm sure Jess would love to know where I went on my birthday," Sam points out.

"_Sam_!" Dean scolds loudly and looks at Sam like he's insane as the rest of their group, about twelve deep, joins them on the sidewalk. "You just met the girl! Two dates! Calm the fuck down and live a little!"

"And this has nothing at all to do with Lisa leaving you last week?" Sam challenges.

Dean shoots him one pissed off look. "No. It has nothing to do with Lisa."

"You sure?"

"Sam! _I_ cheated on _her_! I deserved to get my ass dumped!" Dean reminds him. "I'm not a relationship kinda guy. I know that. I'm a strip club kinda guy. My best dates end when I've run outta singles." With a grin he pulls a stack of dollar bills out of his back pocket. "And I've got longevity tonight. Suck it up and let your girly-ass hair down, Sammy. It's time to get drunk and ogle naked women!"

Dean shouts out this last part and raises his fist in the air, making the entire pack of young men cheer. He set this whole thing up, having an itch to get out and do some damage in town. Yes, the break up with Lisa sucked but, like he said, he deserved it. He shouldn't have messed around with her sister, he knows that, so fuck it. He wasn't in love anyways. Dean's happy without that mess in his life.

Sam sighs and makes a face.

"China just heard that eye roll, you little bitch," Dean says to Sam and shoves him at the front door of the club. "You loosen up and I promise you'll have fun."

"Fine," Sam gives in as he knows it's easier not to fight his brother. It's always far too exhausting going up against that force of stubborn nature.

With an arm around Sam's shoulder, the move awkward with the height difference but Dean doesn't care as he's already half in the bag, they enter the building. From the outside it's seen better days, the brick structure aged and clearly an old warehouse. Inside the place is jumping with movement and excitement. All different color lights illuminate the large open room. Red curtained walls line the place and one main stage is at the center, the flooring smooth and reflective as ice, with a smaller catwalk to each side.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" the skimpily clad hostess immediately greets when she sees the group. Her eyes light up as she no doubt can see dollar signs across her vision with the herd of young men.

"Ah, hello!" Dean shouts right back. "This here is my little brother Sam." Dean pats Sam hard in the chest twice. "And it's his birthday. Treat him right."

"Well, hello Sam," the girl says to him and grabs his hand. "Why don't I set you and your friends up in a nice cozy spot, hm?"

"I love this lady already!" Garth laughs out, the man quite drunk as he leans against Ash for stability.

The pack follows the hostess to a section off to the side of the main stage right in front of one of the smaller catwalks. They take their seats in the gold upholstered chairs.

"So what can I get for all you fine gentlemen tonight?" the hostess asks as she stands behind Sam, her hands starting at his shoulders and drifting downward until her breasts are resting on the top of his head.

"A lap dance for the birthday boy from the hottest chick you got," Dean answers quickly. "And a round of whiskey shots and beers."

"I'll have a server get you those drinks," the woman tells them, her chest still on Sam. "And when you decide which girl you want just let your server know, sweetie." She winks at Dean before shaking her breasts while still on Sam. The group hollers and she walks away laughing.

"I don't want a lap dance, Dean," Sam warns him.

"Tough titties," Dean comments, not backing down from the promised dance.

Sam shakes his head but Dean ignores it, focusing instead on the girls dancing in the room. As one makes her way down the catwalk in front of them dressed in a police costume he smile so wide it hurts.

"This might be the first time in my life that I've ever respected authority," he comments and reaches for his stack of ones.

* * *

Sam's wasted. He's drunk as a God damn skunk and Dean couldn't be more proud.

"How you feeling about this place now, Sammy?" Dean wonders as he looks over at his little brother, grinning like a child.

"It's… awesome," Sam slowly responds as he looks over the topless stripper in his lap, her bra-top now strapped around his head like a party hat as is customary at The South Pole when it's someone birthday.

"Good man," Dean tips his beer bottle at him and takes a sip. Sam's usually wound so tightly that it's great to see him so open and relaxed for once. Sure, his hangover will probably kill him tomorrow but fuck it. He'll survive.

"Hey man," Dean hears Ash call to him and when he looks he sees the guy struggling to keep Garth on his very drunken feet. "I'm gonna head to the bus and let Garthie here sleep it off."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean laughs a little.

"Thiss parrty was… sweeeeet," Garth struggles out, his eyes lulling everywhere.

"Have a good time, Sleeping Beauty," he says right back as Ash nearly drags the shit-faced man out the door.

Dean looks around the club, sighing with contentment. The party is clearly a success and he can feel the pride wash over him.

However, he never found his girl. Usually when at a strip club Dean finds his one, the hottest chick in there to his standards, and hones in. He's already lost half his cash on hand, never got that lap dance for Sam, and never got one for himself either. The girls are hot, don't get him wrong. He doesn't go to clubs with C or even B rate chicks. But tonight he's just… unfulfilled.

_Use my body to keep you alive._

Dean nods his head and smiles when he recognizes the song instantly, the guitar riff being very familiar. He used to listen to Rob Zombie all the time as a rebellious kid.

"Haven't heard this song in forever," he says to no one in particular as he turns in his chair to check out the main stage and the stripper that chose this particular song.

His face drops instantly when he gets one look at her. Maybe his prayers are being answered after all.

Her body, slim and perfectly curvy with large, absolutely fake breasts and an ample ass, moves smoothly with sultry heat in just the right way to the hard hitting rock song. The skintight black pleather mini-dress shines in the flashing lights of the club, her toned arms accentuated by the black long sleeves and her bare, so long legs make his mouth water, the short stiletto booties making them look even longer. She bends over, the hem of her dress riding up and revealing a little more of the tattoo she has on her upper, outer thigh and she drags her hands back up her legs slowly. Her thick dark cat-eyeliner makes her big brown eyes smolder, her pale face framed by dark, long, wavy hair. When her red lips stretch into a smile Dean's jeans instantly get tighter.

"Fuck… me," Dean drawls out and stands up from his seat, walking right over to the main stage as if he's a moth headed for the warm glow of flame. He drops down into a seat at the edge of the stage and looks up in sheer awe, dumbstruck by her.

"I think your brother's in love," laughs Brady and looks over to Sam.

"Yeah…" Sam answers absently, not at all paying attention to anything besides the hot stripper in his lap flirting shamelessly with him.

Leaning back against the gold pole in the middle of the stage the dancer looks around at the men sitting in front of her. She sees the one off to the left of her, his eyes glued to her and his face slack with want. Bingo. She found her meal ticket for the night. There's always one.

Locking eyes with the guy, an easy task with how fucking hot he is, she slowly lowers the zipper running down the front of her mini-dress, the tight fabric opening right up as she goes. The guy licks his bottom lip once and she's got him completely hooked. Time to reel him in.

As she peels the black dress off of her body, Dean groans to himself as he sits there. Once it's gone she's left in a bright red bra top and tight red hot shorts, her ass cheeks curving out from the bottom.

With impressive skill the dancer directs her focus on the pole in the center of the stage.

A face of complete desire plastered on, Dean watches her closely as her body contorts while she works the pole, upside down one moment, legs in the air the next, and then climbing back up with ease. She moves with alluring confidence and sexy grace, but it's her details he finds intriguing. The woman is covered in tattoos he can now see since the dress is gone. Her right side is a mural of designs, both her arms covered in full ink sleeves, her right upper thigh is a cascading bouquet of flowers and she has a quite unique red flower on the left side of her neck.

While suspended upside down, her legs wrapped tightly around the pole to keep her in place, the dancer pops open her top and lets it fall down to the stage below her. The room of mostly men hoot for her and she slides slowly downward until she's lying on the shiny stage, her back arched as she eyes Dean over from the floor. She slides her hands down her body, making sure to squeeze her own breasts once while staring the hot customer over before rolling onto her stomach.

She's clearly targeted him and Dean knows it. Sometimes he gets lucky. And when she starts crawling, her body swaying to the music as she does, he knows today is his lucky day. She's headed right for him, beautifully round ass in the air.

His hand in his pocket, Dean pulls a twenty from his stack of cash, knowing he needs to get her attention the best way he knows how. Big money.

She lays down onto her stomach when she reaches him, her feet swinging in the air behind her and her breasts pressed together as she props herself up on her elbows. She eyes the large bill in his hand.

"Big spender." She smiles at him, knowing he's all hers.

"Anything to get a beautiful woman's attention," Dean slickly answers back.

Peering at him for a second, not taking the offered money just yet, the she rolls over onto her back. With her heels on the stage floor she presses her hips up high, her upper back the only part of her touching the ground. She lowers her red shorts to reveal a tiny black thong. She threads her legs through the shorts before rolling back over to face him.

"You are sex incarnate," Dean nearly growls as he looks over the round mounds of her ass that's now full exposed.

"And you're cute," she says with a smirk. She reaches her hand over the edge of the stage and drops the shorts in her hand onto the bar top that lines the stage directly in front of Dean. "I'm gonna want those back. I'll come find you for them later."

She then turns around and sits at the very edge of the stage. She turns her head to look at him.

"Tip me."

"Gladly," Dean answers and tucks the twenty onto the string of her thong. The dancer smiles wide at him and moves on, making her way around the stage to the other men willing to lavish attention and money on her. Dean never once moves, aside from dropping more money on the stage for her exceptionally intense and hot as hell performance, and his eyes are glued to her the entire time until she collects her money on the stage and leaves, winking at him once before she disappears behind the curtains.

Dean sighs with a stupid look plastered on his face. She's amazing. So fucking amazing.

In a daze of sex and desire, Dean gets up and makes his way back to the group of men. He plops down into his seat and looks around at the men, friends of both his and his brother's.

"She looked nice," Ash patronizes from his own seat, now back from putting Garth down for a while.

Dean smirks at him knowingly and pulls the red hot shorts in his hand onto his head like a hat, the red fabric covering one of his eyes.

The group laughs a bit.

"Souvenir?" Brady asks with delight.

"She's coming back for 'em," Dean points to the stripper-wear on his dome. "And I can't fucking wait."

* * *

After waiting for far too long (and it could easily have only be ten minutes tops with how anxious Dean is at this point) he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns quickly and looks at the person behind him.

"Nice hat," the gorgeous stripper comments with her hands on her hips as she looks at her red shorts on Dean's head. She's left in her tiny black thong and red bra top only.

"I thought so," Dean grins up to her.

She laughs and looks over the group in front of her. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? Boy's night out?"

"It's my brother's birthday," Dean answers and points to Sam. With a dopey, drunken face Sam eyes the new stripper in his lap, grinding on him.

"I can see he's very well taken care of," she laughs, seeing the man clearly enjoying his time with Jenny, or Arora as she goes by. "What about the rest of you? You looking for anything I can help with?"

The group looks at her with wide eyes.

"Sweetheart, there is plenty you could do for us," Dean tells her with certainty.

She grins at him, liking his overconfident style right away. And now that she has a chance to really see him she's impressed. He's hot, and not in the traditional way either. He's actually quite beautiful yet severely many. It's an odd mix.

"I'm sure I could, big boy," she returns with and lowers herself sideways into his lap. She takes her shorts off of his head and snakes her heels through them, pulling them up her long legs.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean complains instantly. "I came here to see stripping, not clothes being put on."

"Well how can I take _off_ clothes if I don't have any on to start with?" she points out to him.

"Good point," Dean grins like a kid at her, watching closely as her shorts slide up her skin.

"How would you guys like it if I spent some time over here for a bit?" she asks the group of several men, seeing each one as a beautiful opportunity to line that wallet of hers. "Gave you a good show?"

"We wouldn't mind it at all," Dean assures her.

* * *

The next hour went by far too quickly for Dean. The stripper, Lita as he found she goes by, stayed with their group exclusively just as she promised. She took her time visiting each guy, spreading her attention around as equally as she could but she always made sure to glance at Dean and keep that connection there. Every time she looked his eyes had already been on her. That's a very good sign.

Another pole dance for the men in this little corner of the club, all of them having been generous tippers for the attention she paid, and once more she takes a seat in Dean's lap, having found his to be the most comfortable in the group. He seems to be the most on par with her personality anyways. He loves drinking, sex, and letting go of all reservations in order to have a good time. That's her kind of guy.

"You're awesome," Dean tells her and hands her another shot of whiskey. She takes it, sporting a pretty decent buzz from the very giving men around her buying far too many drinks, and prepares to get flat out drunk. She never does that, gets drunk on the job, but she's comfortable with them and with Dean specifically so why the hell not? If they're going to spend money in her club then fuck it, she's contributing by keeping them going.

"You're not too bad yourself, Dean," she smiles and takes down the shot with him. The haze settles over her, the tipsy state just too damn fun. She loves drinking.

Lita takes the glasses out of their hands and places them on the small table in the middle of the group. She then moves to straddle him and places her hands on either side of his neck. Leaning into him, her red lips up to his ear and her body pressed against his, she asks in a husky voice, "You wanna take this somewhere more private?"

Dean swallows hard before sighing.

"I want to show you what I can do," she says to him with confidence. "And you seem like you can afford me."

Closing his eyes as he feels her tongue outline his ear, he answers quickly. "Let's go."

She grins wide at him as she climbs off his lap. Grabbing his hand she pulls him up and leads him to a back room, ruffling Sam's hair as she passes. "Happy birthday, Sammy," she jokes to the now passed out man. It's rare that she sees a man blackout like that in her club but she's getting the feeling this wasn't the norm for him.

Pulling aside a red curtain she brings Dean into a sectioned off area. A large bouncer is seated on a stool by the doorway and he looks up when they enter.

"Hey, Cliff," Lita says and runs her hand over his shoulder. "I'm using the back room. This guy's fine so leave us alone."

"Whatever you say, Lita," he brushes it off, knowing it's best he leave her to her thing. He's learned that Lita can bring in some serious cash if he leaves her to her own devices in the back rooms. And he knows he'll get his cut for leaving her be and shutting his mouth if she's successful. It's a good racket they have going.

"And tell Derek to put on some good music for me. Tell him make it dirty."

Cliff laughs to himself as the walk away. He pulls out his phone to text the DJ.

"Sit down," Lita says to him as she closes the curtain in the small room. Dean listens obediently, having become an absolute puppy dog for her throughout the night. He'd do whatever she says at this point. He can't keep his eyes off of her.

Once settled into the plush, upholstered chair he watches her as she stands in front of him.

"I've been wanting to get you in here all night," Lita tells him, dropping her red hot shorts to the floor quickly.

"Because I have deep pockets?" Dean jests, sights hard on her hands as they unhook and drop her red bra top to the floor, once more giving him the perfect and up close view of her large breasts. His hands claw into the arms of the chair with need to reach out and touch her.

"Honestly, yes," Lita doesn't lie at all as she once more kneels into his lap, a knee to each side of his legs as she runs her hands down the side of his face and neck. "But you're also hot so… it's a little selfish of me in that way too." Lita licks her lips. "What do you want, Dean?"

His voice fails him completely with the question.

"You don't know?" she questions, her hands traveling slowly down his chest as she waits.

"Oh I know," he rediscovers his ability to talk. "I just don't know what you're willing to do."

Lita laughs at this one, her brain churning. "How about this; I'll do all I'm will to do if you've got the means to cover it."

"And what will cover it?"

She evaluates him, her hand landing on the center of his pants. Decent size. Her heart skips a beat.

"Call it an even hundred and I have my way with you," she deals. "I don't do sex at work and I won't be blowing you but trust me, you'll get off and I'll leave you smiling for days."

Slightly disappointed yet slightly excited at the very same time, Dean happily says, "Deal."

"Good boy," Lita answers back, her thumb swiping across his bottom lip when she really looks at how perfect his mouth is. And his lashes are so long, feminine even. And that deep, beautiful green of his eyes…. "You're really pretty."

"Thanks… I think…" Dean says uncomfortably, not having been prepared for such a comment.

"No! It's a compliment," Lita tries to explain. "Trust me. To me pretty is _very_ good. I love the way you look. You're rare."

"Trying to cover up your mistake?" Dean patronizes a bit as he's found she can be sarcastic and rough around the edges… but he likes that. And she can take it as much as she can dish it.

"No," Lita tells him, taking his hands and placing them on her hips. "Just explaining myself."

"Alright then," Dean forgives her as his hands grab hard onto her round hips, having wanted to feel her all night but he's remembered his strip club decorum. No touching the strippers unless given the green light.

Lita bites her red-painted bottom lip and runs her thumb across his again. "Normally I don't kiss clients at work but… I'm intrigued." She stares at his mouth. "Can I?"

Dean doesn't verbally answer this question. Instead he brings a hand to the side of her face and pulls her in. This has to be bad idea number one in the book of man code. Don't make out with strippers. This can't be smart but luckily Dean's based his life on not-a-good-idea for the most part so what's one more stupid and reckless decision?

Kissing her cautiously as he does the first time he's ever with a woman he's unfamiliar with, he quickly finds that caution is not how Lita plays her game.

She takes full control of the kiss right away, her lips dominating his as she attacks. He just looked like too much fun to make out with to not give him a solid push. Biting down on Dean's bottom lip as a test, she waits to see his reaction.

He groans deep in his throat and he pushes his hips upwards once with the feeling. Bingo.

"You like it a little rough, Dean?" Lita confidently asks, punctuating the sentence by licking his open-with-awe mouth.

"I like whatever you've got," Dean answers back as he tries to keep his brain in a working place. She's threatening to break it with her intensity already.

Kissing him once more, nearly devouring his mouth as she feels something deep within her stirring, Lita finds herself truly enjoying her job tonight. She usually finds it fun as hell when on the stage but the real money maker is the private dances and those can be quite awful sometimes. Creepy and ugly men just love to come to strip clubs when they have some cash saved up. But Dean is neither creepy nor ugly. He's fucking hot, no two ways about it. And even with him being so hot she never assumed when she brought this guy back behind the curtains that she'd be getting this turned on by simply kissing. Bonus for her.

After some time she realizes how far too wrapped up in his mouth she is when she thinks of the time he's paying well for that she's wasting on him with just kissing. Separating their mouths with a smile so she can move on, she gives him an excited look as she brings her legs down between his knees. She slides down his body slowly, keeping pressured contact with him the whole time, until she's kneeling on the floor. Reaching for his belt she quickly gets the buckle open. She's already decided that this will be no quick thing with simply unzipped pants and a dick pulled free. She wants to _see_ him. The pants are coming off tonight.

A few deep breaths once he finishes and Dean opens his eyes to the sound of the sexiest little giggle he's ever heard.

"You got me good," she says with a bright smile.

Dean looks her over and realizes her stomach and right breast are painted with white.

Lita then laughs hardily as she holds up her right hand, it looking not much different.

"I guess I really used my money well then," Dean says once his heart starts to slow, laughing a little himself.

"And I guess it was worth my staying late tonight," she returns with, not getting off of him as she reaches to the floor for her red hot shorts.

"You're shift's over?" Dean questions her.

"It was at midnight," she answers, using the shorts to clean herself up.

"And you stayed?" he asks her with surprise and gets a look of disbelief in return.

"You and your friends just paid off my share of next month's rent. Of course I stayed," she laughs a little and sits still once she's clean. "And I'd say it was totally worth it."

They share a moment, just looking at one another as they both feel a certain connection now. Lust is a hell of a thing, making them take their physical need further than either expected.

"Since I probably emptied your bank account tonight… can I buy you a drink?" Lita asks, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Dean gives her a shocked expression. "No stripper has _ever_ offered to buy me a drink."

"Probably because you call them strippers," Lita jokes and pats his cheek a couples times as she stands up. "We're dancers."

The grin she gives him makes him nod. She's funny. She's sarcastic. She's hot as all fucking hell. Oh, no.

"I'm gonna go change into my normal, non-_stripper_ clothes," Lita tells him as she pulls her thong on. "I can meet you back with your crew."

"Ok," Dean answers, his voice nervous now as he watches her move. She puts on her red top and grabs her shorts, every movement graceful and somehow beautiful.

"And I'll be expecting my payment then," she winks at him and tosses him his jeans and boxer-briefs before leaving the room.

Dean sits back and sighs, feeling something shift inside his chest before getting redressed.


	11. Glitter and Ink (Part 2)

When Dean makes it back to his group in the strip club he was already prepared for the ribbing he was about to get.

"Ah! There he is!" Ash immediately shouts out loudly when he sees Dean return. "You were gone a while there, amigo."

"Worth it," Dean smirks as he sits down in his chair, glancing at his brother. He's awake now but the look in his face is just priceless. Eye glazed over and hair a mess, it looks to him that Sammy is having a good birthday. "How you doing, pal?" Dean pats his shoulder.

"M'good," Sam answers, clearly not good.

"You're drunk," Dean points out.

"We're all drunk," Brady laughs. "And we're gonna head out. We're wasted and broke."

"We did it right," Ash laughs and stands up as he kills the last of his beer.

"Wait, we're leaving?" Dean asks them as the group starts to join Ash.

"We were just waiting on you, buddy," Brady lets him know. "You're back, group's ready to go."

"I, ah…" Dean starts to say but pauses when he thinks he's going to sound ridiculous. If he says he's staying to chill with a stripper he'll never hear the end. Oh well. If he doesn't stay he'll regret it. "I'm gonna stick around."

"Stick around?" Brady asks with surprise. "For what? You _have_ to be cashed out."

"I am… but I'm…"

"He's waiting for me," Lita's voice tells the group as she walks up next to Dean, her hand running up his back and landing on his shoulder. "I asked him to."

The group just stares at her in shock.

"So you guys head on out," Dean says to them all with sudden confidence. "Bring Sam to our place and tuck him in, ok? Maybe a bedtime story?" He tosses Brady his apartment key. "Just leave the door unlocked."

Brady huffs an unbelieving laugh. "Whatever you say, man. Come on, Sam!"

With effort the group gets Sam on his feet and they filter out the door, Lita and Dean watching them go.

"Bang up job we did on that brother of yours," Lita comments as she walks past him towards the bar along the back wall.

"That's what I brought him here for," Dean responds as he follows her. He scans her over as he walks behind her, seeing the body-hugging red, long-sleeved shirt and tight dark jeans frame her form just perfectly. She's unbelievable. The word bombshell was made for her.

"We make a good team then," she laughs.

"Definitely."

Lita takes a seat at the bar. "Well I'm glad I could be a part of destroying him for his birthday." She laughs and the sound is light and airy.

Dean sits down next to her. "You destroyed me too, don't forget." He hands over a stack of folded bills.

Lita grins wide, seeing how he's a total man of his word. He paid her right away. Thinking quickly, she pulls a twenty out of the folded wad. "Here."

Dean just looks at her funny.

"You're staying to hang with me and I made you lose your ride home. Taxis aren't free." She shrugs and grabs his hand, pressing the bill into his palm. She closes his fingers around it and holds on for a second longer than she needed to.

"The dancer with a heart of gold," Dean smirks at her and pockets the money, pretty damn glad she gave it back. He was going to have to head to an ATM to get home before now.

"Don't you know it," she answers back and leans way over the bar. "Kylee!"

The bartender looks over to her and rolls her eyes. "The hell are you still doing here?"

"Looking to get a little wasted before I head home," Lita grins as Kylee heads her way. "Get me a Jameson, huh? And something for Dean here."

"Same," Dean quickly answers back.

Kylee gives Lita a look of annoyance. "You're pissing the other girls off again."

"What!?" Lita asks with denial.

"You commandeered the birthday party, stayed an hour late… you're killing their earnings."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry that I am insanely awesome at my job," Lita rolls her eyes with sheer annoyance. "They don't like it they can suck my dick. Seriously, this is an every chick for themselves operation and they all know it."

"And Pete won't like you drinking with customers in house while off the clock," Kylee reminds her.

"And I'm putting my hard earned money back into his register. He'll be fine."

"You're a huge bitch," Kylee says with a cocked eyebrow.

"You love me," Lita grins very knowingly.

"No I don't," Kylee responds yet the smile on her face gives her away as she moves to get their drinks.

"You so do!" Lita laughs confidently and turns to Dean, a totally assured smile on her red lips. "She does." Lita sighs a bit at this and Dean looks at her funny.

"You two good friends or something?" Dean wonders.

"I'm gonna go with or something," Lita says, rolling her eyes.

Dean just stares at her, not understanding.

"It's… we're just totally love-hate," Lita explains a little. "We've worked together here for a year now. Most girls don't like me so much…"

"Because you take their attention?" Dean assumes.

"Well… yeah," Lita admits. "I'm good at my job."

"I'd say so."

Lita laughs. "But Kylee never wrote me off so we've been friendly. That and… she's hot."

The way she smirks at him makes Dean huff a laugh and nod since, hell, she is hot.

"So, Dean, I have to say I had a hell of a night."

"Yeah, mine wasn't too bad either," he says. She turns to face him and he can't help but look down the deep V-neck of her shirt. Her breasts are still on display and he can't stop himself from leering a little.

Kylee places the two drinks on the bar in front of them. She then snaps her fingers to get Dean's attention and points to Lita's face. "Her eyes are up here, buddy." She winks at him and walks away.

"Sorry," he apologizes to Lita. "They're very distracting."

"I hope so! I paid good money for them!" she answers back.

He appreciates her refreshing attitude.

"Well then I guess I'll just talk to you like this then," Dean says as he angles his head downward and makes a show of staring at her breasts with very wide eyes.

"Ok, ok," Lita stops him while laughing as she lifts his chin to look her in the face. "There is such a thing as too much."

Dean smiles at her. "Alright then," he says while picking up a bar napkin. He reaches to her and places it on her chest to cover up her cleavage. "Now we're good. Talk away."

She laughs again, this time a deeper one than before. "You're funny." She takes a sip of her drink while eyeing him over again. He is funny. And overconfident. And very hot. She's feeling something she hasn't for a long time, something she's going to have to work on.

"So you've worked here for a year?" Dean questions her, looking to strike up a real conversation. He shockingly wants to know more about her.

"No. I've worked here for three years. Kylee's been here for a year."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what did you do before dancing?"

"Well, I was a dancer," she laughs. "I've worked _here_ for a while but I was dancing in New York City for a while before that."

"Seriously!?" Dean asks with wide eyes.

"Oh yeah. Scores."

He looks at her like she's insane. "You must have been making unreal money."

"I did alright for myself," she admits modestly. "A lot can be made in that city if you have the right set of skills."

"So why the hell are you here now?" Dean has to wonder. "Why Boulder?"

"The weed," she answers easily.

Dean laughs at this. "What was it really?"

"What is it always?" she responds. "Love."

"You moved here for a guy?" Dean questions with surprise.

"I was in love at the time," Lita nods. "Or at least I thought I was. It didn't work and now I'm here. I have a life, a place I call home that isn't a five by seven sized closet so…."

She takes a big sip of her drink and Dean doesn't believe that she's still happy in this town. There's just something about her tone that gives it away for him. But nonetheless he's glad she's here.

Dean follows suit and gulps down some whiskey.

"What about you?" Lita asks.

"From here," Dean explains. "Grew up just outside the city."

"Makes sense, since your brother was with you tonight," Lita figures.

"Yeah, we have a place across town."

"You live with your brother?" she asks with attitude.

"Yeah…. Why?" Dean wonder, not seeing why that's so odd.

"I would end up killing my little sister if I ever lived with her."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, Lou," Lita rolls her eyes. "We've never gotten along. She was always so difficult and so fucking stubborn. We're too damn different."

"Where does she live?"

"In Virginia, where we're from… or at least I think so…"

"You don't know!?" Dean asks with wide eyes.

"No. We lost track of each other," Lita admits. "We've never been a close family unit anyways."

Dean blows out a breath of sadness. "That sucks."

"How so?"

"Just… family to me is everything. I'd have nothing without my brother and my dad."

Lita nods and accepts that. "I wouldn't know that feeling."

Dean knows he's touched a nerve with that one so he doesn't push it. He takes a sip of his drink and moves on. "So… how about that glitter huh? You guys all have to douse yourself in the stuff before a shift or what is that about?"

A slow smile creeps across her face when she sees the way he makes the conversation easy and comfortable for her again. She lets out a laugh, her heart suddenly warming with his presence. He's fucking adorable.

"We have to," she jokes right back. "It's in the glitter clause of our contracts."

Dean laughs right back, letting himself get charmed even more by her.

* * *

"You wanna split a cab?" Dean asks as he heads outside the strip club that's closing down for the night.

"No, no," Lita answers, hiking her purse up her shoulder. "I live around the corner."

"Seriously?"

"It's convenient."

"Alright…" Dean says, looking down the dark and nearly empty streets. "Uh, you want me to walk with you or something?"

"I'm fine," Lita smiles at him for trying to help her and protect her. "I walk home every night."

"Yeah, but…"

"Dean, I'm certified in self-defense," she lets him in on another detail about herself. "If I wanted to I could kick your six-two ass right here into this sidewalk. I'll be more than fine."

"Really?" he questions her, expression serious with the threat.

"How do you think I keep in shape?" she says to him. "And I used to live in New York. It was a good idea."

"That _is_ a good idea," Dean admits. "Smart girl."

"Breaking your stereotype of strippers one detail at a time!" she jokes right away.

"Dancers," Dean corrects while wagging his finger at her for the slip up.

"Aw, you're trying," she coos and walks right up to him, hugging him hard. "You made my night, Dean."

"Could say the same right back at you," Dean answers, his hands pressing into her back and holding her close for just a second, relishing the moment. "Is it weird if I say I want to hang out with you again?"

"No," Lita answers, backing away and looking up at him while crossing her arms. "But you should know something."

"What?"

"I'm not gonna fall for you."

"What!?" Dean asks with the way out of the blue statement.

"If this is some weirdo stripper fantasy of getting the dancer to settle down like some Pretty Woman bullshit…"

"Dude!" Dean stops her right there, hand held out. "Calm down. All I asked was to hang out. I think you're fun. Don't assume I'm in love with you because you might have jerked me off real good one time."

She burst out a laugh at him. "Good, that's good. I've had my share of PLs before…"

"PLs?"

"Pathetic Losers. They're the guys that fall in love with strippers and it gets weird. I don't do relationships with men that come into my place of work."

"No, Lita, come on…"

"Liz."

Dean looks at her funny.

"My name. It's Liz," she tells him. "And as long as all you want is to hang then this can work."

"Done," Dean says with certainty he doesn't have. Trying to be friends is a start but he's worried how he'll feel the more he gets to know her.

"Why don't you think about this for a few days," Liz suggests. "I'm working the Thursday 80's Night and I get out by eleven. You swing by and after I get out we can grab a beer or something."

"80's, huh?"

"I usually dance to some Quiet Riot with crimped hair."

"I wouldn't mind seeing that," Dean answers back. "I'll come by."

"If you think a stripper friend is something you want."

"Eh, it's just a job," Dean shrugs and jokes.

"Get home and go check on that brother of yours," Liz says with a grin as she turns around to walk towards her apartment.

"I'll see you Thursday!" she hears him yell after her.

Liz waves once over her head at the man and keeps walking, an unbreakable smile on her face. She's excited to see if he proves himself Thursday.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Liz yells out into her apartment when she opens the door. The place is silent and she locks the door quietly. Her jacket off, keys and purse on the table by the door, and she walks cautiously through the apartment.

In the living room she finds her, lying on her back across the couch with an open book on her chest.

Liz huffs a laugh, not surprised at all by what she finds. This was pretty typical.

"Hey," Liz says while swatting her foot, making the woman inhale hard and wake up.

"Hey," she says back, blinking herself awake as Liz sits down on the other end of the couch. She looks to the clock on the wall. "You're back really late."

"So worth it," Liz answers her. "I made half of next month's rent in one night."

"How the hell do you do that?" she asks with awe.

"This time? A birthday party with deep pockets," Liz smirks.

"Oh, nice."

"You studying again?" Liz questions, seeing that the book on her chest is a text book.

"Lesson planning."

"About?"

"Alternatives to incarceration versus the penal system as it is. It's a possible debate topic. It's pretty interesting, actually. Some really great theories have been thrown out there…."

"You're so damn smart," Liz smirks.

"They don't call me professor for nothing," she answers back, looking down at Liz and seeing what she's wearing. "You look good."

"Don't I always?"

"Well, yeah… but you know how much I like that shirt on you."

Liz gets a predatory grin as she sees an opportunity. After that encounter with Dean she's been all sorts of turned on. Time to really take care of that.

"I wore it just for you, baby," Liz answers as she starts to crawl up the reclined woman's body. She takes the text book off of her chest, drops it onto the floor, and lays down on top of her. "I know how much you like when my girls are on display."

"Mmhmm," she responds, her hands immediately on her breasts through her shirt as she leans up to kiss Liz once.

"And I'm all kinds of horned up right now," Liz admits through the haze of her great night.

"I like you that way." The small woman under her looks up with slight excitement.

"Come on, Jo-Jo," Liz says to her girlfriend, kissing her once more. "I'm all worked up from my shift. You gonna help me out?"

"Found something you liked, didn't you?" Jo asks with slight surprise. It's been a while since Liz came home like this.

"Maybe," Liz answers, grinding her hips down for the friction once she's on top of her girlfriend.

"It's been a long time."

"I know."

"You gonna go after him?" Jo wonders, just looking to be prepared for that if it happens.

"Don't know yet," Liz answers, kissing Jo's neck. "Let's not talk about that."

"I can do that," Jo answers, her knees bending up as she moves under Liz, reacting to her immediately.

"Can you fuck me tonight?" Liz asks hopefully, lining the edge of Jo's ear with her tongue much like she did to Dean earlier that night. "I want to get fucked."

"He _must_ be hot," Jo answers back, knowing Liz hasn't asked for her to use the strap-on in a while. Her girlfriend only asks for the fake dick when she's jonesing for some real dick.

"You're hotter," Liz says and devours Jo's mouth, looking to make her shut up about the guy she met tonight. "Let's go." Liz gets up and pulls Jo's arm, nearly dragging her to their bedroom.

"Impatient much?" Jo laughs a bit when she stumbles while getting up and follows.

"Baby, I'm dying for you," Liz admits as she pulls Jo into their room and shoves her down on the bed. Looking over her she gets controlling. "And I'm gonna get what I want tonight."

Jo smiles wide right back, knowing she's about to have a really fun night.

* * *

Walking into the living room at eleven in the morning, his hair an unruly mess and his head hurting a bit, Dean drags his feet with the hangover. He's feeling quite shitty but his night was completely worth it.

The second he gets a clear shot of their couch he sees his brother curled up on it, his bleary eyes looking at the TV and his entire body language screaming of pain and sickness.

"Mornin' sunshine," Dean greets.

A pitiful groan is all he gets in return.

"Ha, you sound like death," Dean laughs a little, enjoying the very rare occasion that Sam is more hungover than he is. He walks to the kitchen and digs into the refrigerator.

"I hate you," Sam complains, his voice rough.

"I'm the best damn brother _ever_," Dean calls to him, grabbing two bottles of PowerAde that he bought at the convenience store across the street when he got dropped off by the taxi last night.

"You're the worst," Sam comments.

Dean walks back into the living room and tosses one of the drinks onto the couch by his legs before dropping into the recliner.

"Thanks," Sam says while sitting up and cracking the bottle, chugging a good quarter of the liquid in one go. After he finishes he peers over to Dean. "How the hell did you get home last night?"

"Taxi."

"You had money left?"

"Just enough," Dean answers, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he remembers Lita's, no, _Liz's_ generosity.

"Shit, I can't believe you stayed," Sam says. "And you made Brady deal with me."

"He's your best friend," Dean shrugs it off.

"Still… I was a waste case," Sam says, rubbing his eyes before running his hands through his hair. "No one but family should have to deal with that."

"I'm sure you were fine…"

"I puked on the sidewalk."

"Hey, it wasn't on the party bus," Dean bright-sides it.

"Why did you stay?" Sam tries to remember.

"Ah, blackouts make piecing everything together so hard," Dean jokes as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

Sam waits for an answer but doesn't get one. "So?"

"Huh?"

"Why'd you stay?"

"Oh, uh…" Dean starts, prepared for the bitch face he's going to get. "I hung out with Lita for a little bit."

"The stripper with the tattoos?"

"Yeah."

"Huh," Sam says, mind kind of foggy. "Hey, uh, didn't you disappear with her for a little bit?"

"Yeah," Dean huffs, smiling wide with that.

"I take it it was a good time," Sam summarizes, voice dripping with disapproval.

"Damn good. She's fucking amazing."

"She _was_ your type."

"And did you see her tattoos?" Dean pushes on. "I gotta find out who does her work. Fucking killer."

"Yeah, I don't remember what they were, really…"

"I'm sure you don't remember a lot of things."

"True," Sam agrees and tries to piece the night together. "Damn, that chick really took a shining to you."

"She was cool as shit," Dean explains away.

"Nah, you guys clicked… which is just stripper speak for she knew you were a sucker," Sam ribs.

"Shut up."

"Did you leave with any money?"

Dean pauses, being cash broke this morning. "Whatever."

"She totally took you!" Sam laughs, then groans when that laugh makes his head hurt.

"It was worth it, Sammy," Dean says, cracking open his PowerAde and looking to rehydrate and make his day better before work.

"Damn it, you didn't bang her, did you?" Sam asks, getting a vibe from his very readable brother.

"No, dude… I didn't _bang_ her…"

"Aww, dude! Gross!" Sam immediately calls out.

"What!?"

"You did _something_!"

"So?"

"She's a fucking stripper!"

"She's a _dancer_," Dean corrects. "And she's not a prostitute. We just had a nice night. We had a connection."

"I'm sure she has a connection with a lot of guys with a stack of money in their pockets."

"It was different, man," Dean keeps trying. "She's fun. I had a few drinks with her when she was done with her shift and she's actually a really cool chick."

"So after spending loads of money on her you bought her drinks after her shift?" Sam asks with disbelief. "She roped you…"

"She paid."

"What!?"

"She paid," Dean repeats with pride.

"For the drinks!?"

"Yup." Dean smugly smirks and takes a sip of his PowerAde.

"Well I'll be damned," Sam says with surprise. It's silent as Sam mulls this over. "You're not gonna try and see her again, are you?" he finally asks.

"Why would that be so fucking bad?"

"Because she's a stripper, Dean."

"Dancer."

"You're better than that," Sam tries to tell him. "You're not gonna become a guy that just hands his cash over because you've been duped, are you?"

"I'm gonna meet her _after_ work Thursday," Dean lets him know. "We're gonna grab a beer."

"Jesus, it's finally happening…"

"What?"

"You hitting that point in your life where you're stooping to the trashiest level a person can manage."

"Hey! Liz is fucking awesome!" Dean defends. "Just because she takes her clothes off for a living doesn't mean she isn't a good person. Or funny. Or actually pretty interesting."

"Oh, man. You like her."

"And what if I do, Sammy?"

"So you _are_ gonna be that guy?"

"What guy!?" Dean starts to get frustratingly angry at Sam for his assumptions.

"The guy that has a stripper girlfriend," Sam complains, lying back down in pain. "You gonna move into a trailer together? Have nine kids and start smoking Marlboros?"

Dean pauses and stares at Sam for a moment, his let down clear. "Dad didn't raise you to be so judgmental."

"And he didn't raise you to marry strippers."

"I'm not marrying a fucking stripper!" Dean shouts at the end of his rope. "Damn it, Sam. She already told me she wasn't looking for anything, ok? She's just a cool fucking person that I want to hang out with. She's fun, Sammy. You remember fun, right?"

"Had plenty last night. It's overrated."

"Get the damn stick outta your ass and look at her as a person. Because she's just a person."

"A person you wanna fuck, Dean. Totally different."

"I _can_ control myself, you know?"

"When you decide to make that true, let me know," Sam cuddles into a couch pillow. "I wanna see what pigs flying look like."

"Fuck you," Dean complains and stands up. "Such an asshole."

"Calm down, dude," Sam tells him. "Just fucking with you."

"Eat me."

Dean leaves the room completely, seeking the solace of his room alone. Sam's an ass. Since when did he care about jobs and status? And if he did care then why the hell would he ever be seen with his own older brother?

Whatever his issue, Sam can suck it. Liz seems like a very cool girl and he's going to take his chances at having anything with her, even just a friendship.


	12. Glitter and Ink (Part 3)

"Ha!" Dean instantly laughs hard when he sees her headed his way. "You weren't kidding!"

"Not at all," Liz grins and gestures to her big volume, crimped hair. "I do the eighties right."

"I'd say," he agrees, eyeing over her blue eye shadow and various neon colored accessories.

"Eh, it's fun," she brushes it off. "So what, you didn't watch?"

"Nah," Dean answers her as they stand together on the sidewalk by the front entrance of The South Pole.

"Why not!?" she asks with wide eyes. "Cherry Pie, Pour Some Sugar on Me, all the greats where there!" She laughs and grabs his forearm. "Leotards, leg warmers, and sweatbands, oh my!"

Dean laughs right back, already feeling like going out to meet her was the best decision he's made in a while. He just feels so at ease and so _himself_ around her.

"Just trying to prove I'm not a PL," Dean jokes with her and holds out his arm bent at the elbow for her to take. "Where to?"

"I'm hoping you like dive joints," Liz narrows her eyes at him as she threads her arm through his.

"I love cheap beer and skeevy people with a million stories."

"How about a really well made Manhattan and awesome late night grub?"

Dean stares at for a second with a very serious face. He then grabs her hand that's resting on his arm. "Marry me?"

Liz bursts out a laugh. "Uh, I hate to tell you this but we're gonna be besties, Dean."

She leads them down the street two blocks to a hole in the wall called The Sly Fox lounge. The dimly lit, basement level bar is old, worn, and yet somehow comforting. It's right out of the fifties, complete with Sinatra playing from an old jukebox by the back wall and red shiny pleather upholstered everything. Liz sits right down at the bar with complete familiarity and drums her hands on the surface three times.

"Where's my man!?" she shouts, making Dean flinch with the abrupt moment.

"That my girl!?" they hear someone yell from the back room and a man with a graying beard and a face that screams he's seen it all peeks around the corner.

"Bob!" Liz smirks as the man walks to them from behind the bar.

"Hey, Liz," he greets and leans his elbows on the bar. "How've you been?"

"Good enough," she grins, leaning over just enough to kiss him on the cheek hello. "This is my friend Dean," she introduces a she takes a seat next to her.

"Howdy." Bob tips his head in greeting.

"Hi there."

"Alright, you know what I want," Liz orders easily enough.

"Maker's Manhattan," he automatically responds and looks to Dean. "You?"

"Same thing."

"I can do that," Bob walks away to make those drinks and Liz turns to look at him.

"You always just order whatever the girl you're with orders?"

"No," Dean denies. "But most women I've drank with don't order good drinks. Usually they order things with names that have a fruit followed by –tini. Or has an umbrella. You drink like a man."

"Maybe you've just hung out with really lame girls?" Liz challenges, agreeing with his sentiment on drinks.

"That might be it," Dean laughs honestly. "My last girlfriend's favorite drink was a Cosmo."

"Oh fuck. She's a Sex and the City fan, isn't she?"

"Owned every season."

"Shit!" Liz laughs as she presses a hand to his shoulder. "Uh, that's terrible. How lame do you have to be to pick a favorite drink from a lame ass show like Sex and the City?"

"Pretty lame," Dean smiles a bit, finding the truth in her words. Lisa was a very sweet girl but she was a girl. She went along with whatever he said and was no challenge at all. Dean was bored with her far too quickly.

"That show is the worst!" Lizzy keeps on going.

"I thought all women loved that show?" Dean asks.

"Fuck that! I'm far more of a Dexter or Breaking Bad kinda gal. Give me blood and stabbings and anti-heroes and I'm good!"

Dean just shakes his head at her. "Again, I ask… marry me?"

"She says no," Bob comments as he places their drinks in front of them. "She's taken."

"Bob, I can't say it enough," Liz looks at him with a grin. "I never have, nor will I ever, be your girlfriend."

"You're a comedian," he grumps right back. "You hungry?"

"When am I not?" Liz quickly responds. "I'm feeling fried pickles tonight."

"Outta pickles."

"No!" she complains dramatically while shaking a fist to the sky, making Dean smile with her antics.

"Over actor," Bob mumbles. "But I got some pulled pork from earlier. Can do some pork nachos."

"And this is exactly why I string you along, Bobby-boy," she grins far too wide.

"Alright, lemme see what I can do."

Once Bob walks away Dean has to ask, "He always that pleasant?"

"Only when I'm here. When I'm not I hear he's a real asshole."

Dean laughs at her. "You must have a happy effect on people."

"Hey, better than making them miserable," she agrees easily. She then adds, "Plus, isn't it my job to make people happy anyways?"

"Touché!" Dean concurs with a true smile as Bob places their glasses on the bar in front of them. He picks up his glass. "To new friends?"

"I can get down on that," Liz nods and clinks her class with his.

"Mm," Dean groans with love when he tastes his drink. "This is awesome."

"Best Manhattan in Boulder," Liz nods back. "Bob is a mixologist from the old school. Any classic drink you want he will dominate it for you."

"Yeah, ah…" Dean looks around the cheap yet unique place. "I could live here."

"Knew I pegged ya'," Liz grins right back, looking him over again. Yes, that's right. He _is_ as hot as she remembered. After going home to her beautiful girlfriend and having her fuck away that turned on state Dean got her in, she started to convince herself he wasn't nearly that hot, that maybe she was just too tipsy to remember correctly. She just put him up too high in her head. But now she sees she was right all along. Dean's fucking gorgeous.

"Ok, so here's what I've been dying to ask you about since last Saturday," Dean starts, putting down his drink and getting serious, turning to face her. "Where the hell do you go for your ink? You have some seriously awesome work by some seriously talented artists and I gotta know."

A giant smile takes root on her face. "They were mostly done in New York," Liz tells him. "Almost all of my work I got done by my boy Matty. He's got a great shop in Hell's Kitchen. He's incredibly talented."

"I'd say," Dean admits quickly. "That red flower one." He points to her neck. "That thing is unreal. The detailing is perfect."

"It's a devotion. I got it for my grandmother," Liz nods before angling her head for him to see better. "She never gave me shit about my tattoos or about me being _exactly_ who I am, unlike the rest of my family. They're all pretty normal and, clearly, I'm not so much. Grandma always embraced that I wasn't afraid of what other people thought of me and that I was brave enough to be myself. Red hibiscus were her absolute favorite so, there it is."

"I'm impressed," Dean tells her, reaching out and running his fingertips across the design, not thinking twice about the move even after barely having known her for more than a few hours.

"And I'm a little surprised," Liz tells him. "Didn't peg you as someone that would pay that close attention to tattoos."

Looking at her with a smirk, Dean tries not to laugh. "I never told you what I do for a living, did I?"

"Nope."

"I'm a tattoo artist," he tells her casually. "I own a shop in the city."

Her face drops instantly into shock with a little delight in the background. "You're fucking kidding me!"

"Nope."

"Shut up!" she shouts and shoves him in the chest. Dean won't admit it but it hurt. She's damn strong. "Which shop!?"

"Winchester Ink," he says as he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls a business card, one of the many he always has on him, out of his wallet and hands it over.

"Shit, a client told me about this place a while back!" Liz suddenly recalls as she reads over the card. Dean Winchester, owner and artist. Fucking awesome. "He told me I needed to go there. Said the dude that owned it was _crazy_ talented."

"I do what I can," Dean smirks, knowing he's officially made a friend for life.

Liz looks at him with child-like excitement. "That's it. You're doing my next one."

"Just like that?" Dean asks with disbelief. "Haven't seen anything of my work but fuck it, I'm gonna permanently alter your skin."

"Fuck that. I know you, Dean," Liz brushes off and opens her purse to save his card. "You wouldn't tell me that you're a tattoo artist unless you knew you could keep up with what I already have done."

"Fair enough," Dean nods, flattered that she could read him so well.

"Shit, you know, I've been dying to get something new done. It's been years." Liz's wheels are turning already.

"Hey, anytime," Dean shrugs. "I'd be honored to add my work to the insane stuff you already have done."

"What about you!?" she questions quickly. "From here I see nothing! You can't be a tat-free tattoo artist. That's just poor advertising."

Dean grins at her. "I have some. I just don't tat my face or hands or anywhere super obvious. My mother would have disowned me if she were still alive."

"Oh… I'm sorry," Liz immediately feels the need to say when he reveals such personal information.

"Thanks, but she died years ago," Dean brushes it off. "I was just a kid."

"Well fuck, that's just worse," Liz tells him, turning in her seat to face him. They're knees to knees. "What happened?"

"House fire," Dean answers. "Sammy and I got out and Dad went to go get her but it was too late. He just barely made it out himself."

"Jesus Christ," Liz says, her hand reaching out to grab at his forearm. "Dean, that's… awful."

He looks down at her hand on his arm. "Just awful enough to not want to talk about."

"God, I'm sorry," Liz tells him, taking back her hand to cover it over her eyes in shame. "I have no fucking filter. If I think it, it bursts right out my damn mouth. Uh, you must think I suck."

"You definitely don't suck," Dean assures her. "Actually, it was nice to see someone show interest… or care at all. Most people just get weird and don't know what to say."

"I don't usually know what to say but I say shit anyways. That's not much better."

"I disagree."

"You would," Liz smirks, knowing his personality enough already. "So, moving on from my inappropriate prying… I want to know what tats you have."

"Uh, well… they're all upper body…"

"Lemme see!" she demands with wide, excited eyes.

Dean just looks at her. "Right now!?"

"Why the hell not!?"

"We're at a bar," Dean says, thinking she's nuts.

"So!?" Liz asks with impatience. "I take my clothes off in a bar all the time!"

"That's your job!" Dean rebuts.

"Details," Liz pushes his excuse aside and grabs the bottom of his long-sleeved Henley. "Come on!"

"Liz! Fuck!" Dean nearly shouts, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from his clothing. "What are you, crazy!?"

"Pretty much," she laughs out right back and gives up her pursuit. "You owe me."

"Owe you!?" Dean asks with wide eye.

"Definitely," Liz grins wide as ever. "You've seen all my tats. I want to see yours."

"I paid good money for that privilege," he quickly rebuts.

"Whatever," she gives up and leaves him alone. "I'm still gonna see them at some point."

The implication is fully there and Dean certainly doesn't miss it. She's basically admitting she'll be getting him naked sometime in the future. He's definitely not about to say she's wrong.

After a few seconds Dean realizes he still has her wrists in his hands.

"Sorry," he says and lets them go.

"Wouldn't be the first time I didn't mind someone restraining my arms," Liz says with a little spark in her voice as she takes her arms back and grabs her drink for a hefty sip.

He knows this chick is going to be the end of him right then and there.

"Knew it," Dean calls out as he grabs his Manhattan and copies her by taking a sip.

"Knew what?"

"You were into that kinda shit," he answers smugly.

"And what kinda shit would that be, Dean," Liz smirks, leaning her cheek into her hand with her elbow onto the bar. She gives him a clearly amused look.

"You like it rough," Dean explains, lowering his voice to where he knows he can effectively turn her on. "You like it when a man takes charge sometimes… even if you usually like to be in control in your everyday life."

"And how would you know all that?" Liz challenges in an equally low and sexy tone, leaning a little closer to him as she's liking where this conversation might be going.

"I can see it all over you," Dean answers. "And I saw it when I pulled your hair last week. You came faster than a fourteen year old boy in the Playboy Mansion and only a person that likes getting a little rough reacts that way. I can see right through you."

The unexpected shiver that runs through her entire body right then and there shocks her to her core. How the hell did he do that? How could he read her like that? No man or woman has figured her out so quickly or correctly.

"I can tell by the surprised face you're giving me that I'm totally right," Dean casually sits back in his bar chair and sips his cocktail with arrogance.

"You might be on to something," Liz admits as she readjusts herself in her seat.

"Well if you ever want me to take out my tools of the trade and show you what a real man can do… you just give me a call, sweetheart. I got a feeling I'm right up your alley." Dean winks at her, finally finding the opening needed to send out the offer. He'd love to get her alone. Hell, he's been dreaming about getting her alone ever since last Saturday night.

"Tools of the trade?" she asks with clear interest.

"Yep."

"And what tools are those?"

"Oh no," he denies. "You gotta come home with me to find out. I don't just give away trade secrets."

She peers at him funny. "I thought I told you I wasn't looking for anything…"

"No," Dean chides and corrects her. "You said you weren't gonna fall for me because you weren't looking for a relationship. But you did say you were looking for fun." He makes a playful face. "I can be a _really_ fun."

"Huh," Liz responds, thinking that this might just work out in her favor after all.

"Think about it is all I'm saying," Dean says to her. "I'm not looking to settle down either. Just looking to find someone I click with."

"That doesn't watch Sex in the City."

"Yes," Dean huffs a laugh. "And that I can trust… and can trust me. And someone that knows how to let go and have fun."

"Baby, I'm a blast," Liz promises, her voice dipping to a very sexy place.

"Then you just let me know when you wanna show me that," Dean says, holding eye contact with her to ensure she understand how serious he is.

And she does understand.

To break the tension of the moment Liz hops down from her barstool. "I'm gonna go smoke a butt real quick."

"I thought you quit?" Bob asks in a disappointing voice as he walks by to grab a beer for another customer.

"When I'm not drinking," Liz explains her stipulation with light innocence.

"And Jo's ok with that?" Bob gives her a look of warning.

"What Jo doesn't know won't kill her, _dad_," Liz rolls her eyes with her friend's fathering. She turns to Dean. "You smoke?"

"Nah, but I'll come with," he says and follows her outside.

"Food'll be ready soon!" Bob yells to her.

"Be back in a minute then!" Liz returns and steps out onto the sidewalk. She searches her purse until she finds her metal cigarette holder and a lighter.

The sight of the Marlboro Red between her lips as she lights it makes Dean's stomach drop. Fucking Sam and his stereotypes being real.

"Not a smoker?" she asks.

"Nope."

"You're smart," Liz tells him while exhaling her first drag. "This shit wastes so much money."

"And it'll kill ya'."

"That too," Liz admits as she leans her back against the brick building.

Something nags at Dean so after a few silent moments he finds his nerve. "Who's this Jo that got you to mostly quit?"

Liz peers at him for a moment, weighing her options here. Honesty is the best policy with her odd set up as she has come to discover so she gets it over with. "She's my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend!?" Dean has to do a double take with this one.

"Yep. My girlfriend." She keeps smoking as if she didn't just drop a bomb in his lap.

"Um… ok, so…" Dean stutters and tries to piece this one together. "You don't mean best friend kinda girlfriend, do you?"

"Nope. Jo is my woman. We live together. Been together for over two years now."

Dean's dumbfounded. "I'm fucking lost here."

"What's not to get, Dean?" Liz laughs a little with his reaction, toying with him a bit as she knows most people wouldn't understand her.

"You're a lesbian?"

"No… but my girlfriend is," she says with a jesting tone and a smirk.

"Yeah, cute but that doesn't clear anything up."

"Jo is a lesbian," Liz starts to clarify. "Me, I'm… bi-curious."

"But you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"How does that work then?" Dean keeps prying, his utter curiosity killing him here. "I mean if you're always with a girl don't you miss men? Or do you just kinda stick with who you're with at the time and that's good enough for you?"

"I'm completely emotionally committed to whoever I fall for, guy or girl. And yes, since I'm with a woman I do get dick-nostalgic at times," Liz answers, folding her arms across her chest and taking another drag.

"So, again I ask… how does that work?"

"I get… free passes when I find an interesting guy that I like. Jo lets me do what I have to now and then to get the straight girl out of my system."

"Wow," Dean awes as he just stands there blinking at her with shock.

"It's a good set up for me… the first one that's ever actually worked. I love Jo. I really love her and I want to be with her for the rest of my life but I was hardwired differently than the average bear. I'm… I need sex. I need all kinds of sex and a lot of it. I know who I am, you know?"

Dean just watches her as she speaks.

"Most people that know about how I live think I'm selfish or maybe I don't really love Jo since they look at what I do as cheating but… I just need things she can't physically give me."

"How does that work, though?" Dean needs to know with his intense curiosity. "Doesn't Jo ever get jealous?"

"We've had to tweak the rules here and there as we went," Liz nods. "But she's very trusting of me. I've proved that I always come home to my girl no matter what."

Dean looks at her with suspicion. "Is this why we're hanging out right now?"

With a small grin Liz keeps up her honesty. "At first, yes. One look at you and I knew I had to get at that." She looks him head to toe and back again. "And it's been six months since I've been with a guy so I'm a little deprived. But then I got to know you better and I'm starting to rethink things."

"Why would you do that?" Dean asks, not ready to lose such an opportunity.

"Because I have rules to follow," Liz repeats. "One of them is that after I fuck a guy a time or two I cut ties with him. It can't get messy if I don't see them again."

"So… you're saying…" Dean sorts this out. "Originally you wanted to have sex with me while on a free pass from your lesbian girlfriend but now you're rethinking it because you'd have to not talk to me ever again afterwards to keep you from falling for me?"

"Already told you I wasn't gonna fall for you," Liz smirks back.

"Yeah, because you have rules to follow," Dean laughs. "So it's either we fuck a couple times and never speak again or we don't ever fuck and be good friends for at least the near future?"

"Exactly."

"Holy shit. This is nuts."

"It's my life," Liz shrugs, taking a drag of her cigarette. "I wish I wasn't like this. It'd be far easier to just be a lesbian or be only straight." She sighs. "And I wish sex didn't consume so much of my life and my being but it does. Ha, I might be the only chick out there that actually sympathizes with Tiger Woods. I get it."

"Well damn. Ha. You're, ah…." Dean pauses when he can't figure out what he wants to say.

"I think you're looking for the word nympho," she jokes while stepping out her cigarette.

"No," Dean denies right away. "You're fascinating. And honest. There's so few people in this world as honest as you. It's refreshing."

Liz just smiles at him. "What the fuck?"

"What?" he asks, bewildered.

"You're not hitting on me."

"Was I supposed to…?"

"Usually that's the exact reaction I get when men hear that I'm a one night opportunity," she explains. "But not you?"

"I like you," Dean admits. "I mean, yeah… I'd give my right nut to fuck you but I like you as a person. It'd suck to have to never talk to you again just because we banged." He looks her over as she stands there. "You sure we can't do both?"

"I can't do both," she answers with his hopefulness. "At least I haven't been able to in the past."

Dean nods. "I can see how it'd get sticky. But what… what if we both go into this with a serious understanding that it's purely sex and friendship? Fuck buddies _do_ work sometimes."

"You're saying you wanna be my fuck buddy, Dean?" Liz asks with playfulness, a little wink in her tone.

"I certainly wouldn't mind it."

"Yeah… neither would I," she admits. She's been told not to break these rules. Jo means too much to her… but this guy just keeps pulling her in. Damn it.

"And doesn't Jo worry about you when you go off with random men?" Dean plays a little devil's advocate. "Wouldn't it be better and more comforting to know you're with one person that you can trust?"

"I just met you. How would I know I could trust you?"

"I think you can tell I'm not an asshole," Dean says and makes a very good point.

He hasn't set off any warning bells for her and she's very comfortable around him already. She'd even go as far as thinking Jo would even like the guy.

"I need to think about this," Liz tells him. "And I need to talk to Jo. I wouldn't betray her. _Ever_. The only way we've been able to work is by being completely honest with one another."

Dean nods and smiles warmly. "Well, worst comes to worst you at least have a new friend."

"That's true," Liz grins at him. "Though I'd rather have a little more." She gives him one seriously seductive look, making sure he understands how she's truly feeling about him.

"You and me both, sweetheart," Dean easily agrees. "We have a good… connection."

"Definitely," Liz concurs and sighs. "Hm. You surprised me."

"How so?"

"You just did," Liz brushes it off and opens the bar door while thinking about how interesting Dean is. He wants to work within her rules yet be her friend. Her looks alone make most guys aim for just a night of sex with her but he doesn't. He likes who she is, not just the fantasy she represents for most. "I'm starving. Let's eat."

"Done," Dean says with excitement as he follows her.

* * *

Two empty baskets of picked over late-night food and four empty martini glasses litter the bar in front of them. Their drinks have been done for a good ten minutes but neither have even noticed to ask for another while consumed by their conversation.

"This is straight Sailor Jerry shit," Dean awes completely as he holds Liz's upper arm and turns it to study the main tattoo that makes up the top half of her sleeve. "Very old school and done so fucking well. The shadowing, the little pops of color…."

"My Matty is a talented man," she tells him of her New York artist over the sounds of 'Train Kept a Rollin'. "He can do modern styles, his own style… but I asked him to take it back to the old school for this one. It's my favorite one, honestly."

"Why's that?"

"Because it's my girlfriend."

Dean's eyes widen at her. "You got your girlfriend tattooed on your arm!?"

"Of course!"

"That's the kiss of death, dude!" Dean shames her, knowing what she's done here.

"Not with my baby," Liz promises with a sly smile. "She's it for me. I love her so damn much that I know this won't ever be a regret."

Dean gets hit in the heart by this. "I've had enough idiots come in, get relationship pieces, and then come back a year or two later looking for a cover up. These will always skeeve me out a little."

"Then I hope to change your mind," Liz laughs. "Plus, why would I ever leave her? She's fucking hot as hell."

"If this tat does her any justice then yeah, she is."

"Mm," she hums, thinking about Jo. "She's fucking undeniable. Long blond hair, pouty full lips, deep dark eyes, and the cutest, tightest little petite body… Mm. God damn it, she's fucking hot."

Dean's eyes wide on her with her description and it's clear how turned on she is. "She sounds hot."

"Not a good enough word," Liz makes sure he understands.

"Well then, if you ever need a third to, you know, lend a hand or whatnot you just give me a ring."

"Ah, I would love that!" Liz sighs overly loudly with the idea, eyes rolling back with want.

"Yeah!?"

"Oh fuck yes," Liz assures him. "But Jo hates dick. She has no need for men and it wouldn't do it for her."

"You sure?" Dean asks, his sheer disappointment loud and clear.

"Very. Don't you think I've tried my damnedest before? That is my ultimate fantasy, Dean. It brings my two favorite worlds together…"

"Can you try again?" Dean asks, his face looking like a hopefully little child.

Liz busts out a gut laugh. "I'll see what I can do but please don't hold your breath on it."

"All I can ask is that you try," Dean says while looking the pin up tattoo over once more. "And if she's this hot I wouldn't mind getting a peek myself."

"She is," Liz assures, her voice going sappy as her mouth turns up with sheer love.

"Damn, you really love her, don't you?" he asks, having caught the reaction.

"You have no idea," Liz sighs all lovey dovey.

"No, I guess I wouldn't," he informs her without thinking.

"Never been in love, Deanie?"

"Not that I know of," he huffs a laugh.

"Then I'd say you're right," Liz tells him with confidence. "Once you've felt love, trust me… you completely know."

Dean keeps looking at her arm and doesn't respond. He hates the thought that pops in his head right now but it comes at him like a damn brick to the face. He feels something for her without a doubt. The way she speaks about her girl with such fondness… he wishes she was talking about him.

"Hey," Liz breaks into the silence between them, Dave Brubeck's 'Take Five' occupying the moment. "Can you at least tell me about _one_ of your tattoos if you're gonna be a prude and not show?"

Dean huffs a laugh at her calling him a prude. "Once you get to know me better you won't be calling me a prude." He takes ahold of the bottom of his Henley on the left side and lifts it up, revealing the large piece of artwork that takes up the entire side of his ribcage and then some.

"Oh my God," Liz loudly admires with wide, astonished eyes as they take in the beautifully detailed and artistically impressive work. "Who did this!?"

"My mentor," Dean explains, not at all shy now that he's had a few drinks and really gotten to know Liz over the past two hours. "It was a parting gift after I got certified."

"Jesus Christ," she says, light fingertips brushing over his skin as she studies the intricate, expertly done, and highly talented work. "He designed it too?"

"Nah."

She looks up at him with sheer awe. "You made this, didn't you?"

Dean just smiles at her to answer.

"Dean… you're…" she looks back down at it, the tendrils of flames that creep upwards from his hip, only parted by a female figure in the center of it. The backside of a woman with long, flowing blond hair in a pure white dress with two large white angel wings extending from her back stands in the middle of the fire, her wings stopping the flames from reaching any higher. Her head is angled upwards as if she's lifting out of the heat and ascending into the sky. She suddenly gets it, remembering what he's told her. "This is your mother."

"Yeah," he confirms for her.

She exhales hard. "This is beautiful. So… oh my God." She looks up at him with sad eyes. Dean swears he can just catch the shine of tears collecting along her bottom lids. "I'm so sorry."

"Like I said, it was a long time ago…"

"Dean… only out of real pain can something like this exist," she explains, her hand pressed into his skin as she looks deeply at him. "This, her loss, still hurts so much. Looking at this, I know it does… which makes this gorgeous. You put everything you had in you into this. It's pain and sadness but it's… it's… there are no words."

Dean sits there, his shirt lifted as Liz now silently looks over the artwork. It's his most cherished piece, the one he's by far the most proud of. He misses his mother every damn day of his life. She was just so kind and warm. He hasn't been able to find that since she passed away. It's difficult to replicate that sense of belonging and safety… but he's starting to slightly remember how that feels.

"Shit," Liz complains and backs away, sitting tall in her barstool as she wipes her damp eyes. "I'm gonna have electric blue eye shadow running down my fucking face because of you."

"Not my intentions," Dean promises with a light laugh as he lowers his shirt back in place.

"Fuck, now I know I have to come to you for my next tat," Liz tells him.

"You know what you wanna do?"

"Kind of," Liz nods to him. "But if I explain you're gonna think I'm fucking certifiable."

"Doubt it. Shoot."

"I want a pair of angel wings," she says. "Been wanting them for a while and now I have proof that you can do that and do it quite well."

"That's not so crazy," Dean assures. "Actually, that's been done before. A lot."

"I want them to be black," she keeps going.

"Uh, are you the angel of death?" Dean playfully asks.

"No," she assures him lightly. "But I do know that I have an angel watching over me."

The sentence makes him nearly have a heart attack. "What?"

"I know, it's fucking crazy…"

"No it isn't," Dean swears to her. "Trust me. My mom, every night before I fell asleep… she told me that angels are watching over me. Every damn night. And now…" He pauses and washes a hand down his mouth. "I like to think that it's her. She's the one watching over me."

"That's why she's wearing wings in your work," Liz only assumes and Dean nods to answer. "Well then, I think we have something in common then, Dean."

He shakes his head in disbelief. This is unexpected and just too good to be true.

"When I was little I used to have these weird dreams," Liz tells him, opening up about something she's never even told Jo. "A… a presence, I guess you could say, would come to me. He'd check in on me, tell me I'm special and every time he showed up it was… so peaceful. When he was around he just calmed me and made me feel safe and important somehow."

The second she mentioned the feeling of a presence in her dreams and the image of black wings something stirs in him. He's felt that, he's even seen that before. He knows it. It was recently though, a week ago, and the image is still fresh in his head. He's experienced this very thing before.

"What was it?"

"I… ha, you know I've never said this out loud before," she says, scratching the back of her head with nervousness and fear he'll laugh at her. "But I honestly believe that… it was an angel. I never could quite clearly see him, I never had a face or a name to put to him but I could always see wings in my mind. Big, impressive, black wings that…" She sighs and her lids lower. "I can still see them when I close my eyes. They were always folded closed, never opened wide or anything but… that image will be seared into my brain for the rest of my life, even if I haven't had those dreams since I was a kid."

"I gotta do this one," Dean tells her and she opens her eyes and looks at him. "The meaning behind it, how it relates… Liz, you gotta let me do this one for you."

She nods enthusiastically. "Done. You just book the day."

Dean smiles at her and has to wonder how he found this girl. She's so different, so deep and perfectly herself. No one is like her, he's sure of it, and he needs her in his life. How… well, he has absolutely no idea. But he needs her. He definitely needs her.

* * *

"Happy Sunday," Jo smiles as she holds out her mimosa to her girlfriend across from her at the small round table.

"You too, baby," Liz says right back and clinks her own mimosa with Jo's. They share a grin as they take a sip with eyes locked, sitting out on the sidewalk patio of a local brunch spot. "What a lovely morning."

"It is, isn't it," Jo agrees with a fully lovey-dovey look, taking in the tight black V-neck t-shirt Liz wears casually yet somehow still makes look like sheer sex. Her designed arms are both on display as well as the flower on her neck. Liz's wavy black hair blows a little in the light breeze and Jo couldn't be happier to be right where she is.

"Yeah, it's really warm out," Liz starts, eyeing the petite blond across from her with hunger. Jo's dark eyes always lit up gorgeously in the sunlight somehow and, even if she's dressed conservatively for the weather in her higher necked tank top and blazer combination, Liz can see right past it. She's sexy. "And my beautiful girl is taking me out to brunch. _And_ I already came twice before I even got outta bed this morning."

"Shh," Jo quiets her girlfriend with a grin when she speaks lewdly and too loudly at that.

"What? It's not like the people here haven't figured it out by now," Liz points out, picking up her hand that's been entwined with Jo's since they sat down.

"Just saying… keep it down a little, ok?" Jo sweetly requests, smiling warmly.

"For you? Anything," Liz smirks and takes another sip of her drink. "So guess what?"

"What?"

"I have the night off," Liz tells her with wide and excited eyes.

"You do?" Jo wonders, her eye wide with growing excitement.

"Yep. I made a killing this week somehow and told the boss man I was taking tonight off. The other girls are pretty happy about it."

"Not as happy as I am," Jo tells her, leaning over the table to kiss her. When Jo sits back down and grins huge she says, "A whole day together. No one working."

"I know," Liz says with her own happiness. "And now we have to figure out how to spend this awesome day."

"I know a few ways…" Jo says and presses her lips together, giving away exactly what she was thinking.

"God damn it, I love you," Liz praises and squeezes Jo's hand with excitement. "I'm taking you to dinner tonight, though."

"Is that so?" Jo asks, her thumb rubbing back and forth across Liz's palm.

"Yes. We have reservations at seven for Frasca."

Jo pauses. "Really?" The swanky spot is one of the best in the city. And expensive.

"I had a good week," Liz shrugs it off.

"Wow," Jo awes. "Best Sunday ever."

"That's what I was going for."

"I think you just want me to be thankful and then show it after we get home tonight," Jo alludes.

"What!? _Noooooo_…." Lizzy isn't even trying to hide the sarcasm.

"Busted." Jo laughs with her lame denial.

"Well, you do know how to work me over good," Liz points out. "And after a couple bottles of wine you don't hold back on me ever."

"So you're just trying to get me wasted?"

"Hell yeah," Liz answers emphatically. "Remember the last time you got drunk at that wine bar? You came home and attacked me."

"Oh God!" Jo laughs loudly at the slightly embarrassing memory. "I was so ridiculous."

"And sexy. Baby, you had me screaming you're name so fucking loud. It was amazing…."

"Liz?"

Stopping mid-conversation Liz whips her head around towards the sidewalk. About twenty feet away and heading towards her she sees Dean.

"Hey!" she smiles instantly with the sight of him, so happy to see him. "What're you doing here?"

"I'm grabbing lunch with my brother and dad," Dean answers and once he's made it to her he holds his arms out from the other side of the short, black wrought iron fence separating the restaurant's patio. Liz stands up, letting go of Jo's hand to walk right up to the fence and give Dean a tight, excited hug over it.

"Oh," she responds with a cheek breaking smile. When she backs away from the embrace she asks, "Where are they?"

"Uh, right there," Dean points to the two men walking towards them. Sam, his intimidating height and long hair an easy one to pick out, but the man next to him wouldn't exactly be the kind of guy to be written off either. He's about Dean's height with Dean's build and Dean's… well, _everything_.

"Now I see where you get those good looks from," Liz says loud enough for John to hear as they make their way over to them.

"From yours truly," John smiles when he hears her speak, grinning wide.

Dean starts in on the introductions. "Liz, this is my dad, John."

"Very nice to meet you, John," Liz says very warmly while holding out her hand. John shakes it.

"You too," John answers and finds himself impressed with her grip. "That's quite the handshake you got there, young lady."

"Well, I'm quite the young lady, sir," Liz jokes and shares a shit eating grin with the man she just met.

"I'm sure my son here certainly thinks so," John ribs as he takes back his hand to give Dean a couple thumps on the back. She's hot and covered in tattoos so therefore Dean must love her.

"Hey, Lit… ah, Liz," Sam says when he gets the chance, correcting himself immediately when he goes to say her stripper name.

"Hey, Sam," Liz answers back in a laugh at his mistake. "How are you?"

"I'm alright." Sam shifts oddly on his feet, unsure of how to act around her. She's a stripper and a friend of Dean's. And Dean hasn't shut up about her in two weeks.

"Um, everyone," Liz starts to say as she steps aside and gestures to the woman sitting at her table. "This is Jo, my girlfriend."

John and Sam both pause with the information. Girlfriend? The chick Dean's been non-stop about all this time has a girlfriend?

"Oh, man. Jo!" Dean lights up as the beautiful blonde stands up from her seat. "It's _so_ good to put a face to the name. And a hot one at that."

Jo gives him a look of bullshit. "And now I know why you're friends with Liz."

"What can I say, I like the girl's style."

"Well, no need for the flattery, Dean." She walks right up to him and gives him a hug. "But it is good to meet the guy that Liz has been hanging out with so much. She's had nothing but great things to say about you."

As Dean and Jo greet each other Sam's head spins. Dean's been all about Liz, hanging out with her and practically fawning over the woman ever since his birthday but… she's a lesbian? Dean has been talking about her like he was gaga over her constantly and now Sam has to wonder if his brother has lost his damn mind.

Jo backs away from the hug and looks way up at the other two men. "Hi… everyone." She smiles at them. "I suddenly feel like the shortest person on the planet."

"Yeah, I guess the Winchester genes are tall ones," Liz jokes right along. At a near five and a half feet she never felt all that short but these three men tower over her.

"You look familiar," Jo says to Sam when she looks him over. It's nagging at her. She's definitely seen him around.

Sam just shrugs and shakes his head, not having seen her before.

"You go to CU-Boulder, right?" Jo wonders when she's sure she's placed it.

"Yeah."

"That's where I know you from," Jo says brightly. "I'm an ethics professor, specializing in business and law ethics."

"No kidding," Sam quirks his mouth into a lopsided smile. "I'm supposed to be taking my law ethics requirement next semester."

"Then I guess I'll be seeing plenty of you soon enough."

"Wait…" Dean shakes his head with a huge smile as he looks at Liz. "You bagged yourself a university professor?"

"Sure did," Liz answers, pride all over her as she puts her arm around the smaller woman.

"How the hell did a chick like you pull that off?" Dean ribs her.

"My sparkling personality paired with a very talented tongue."

Having seen this type of humor coming from her a mile away, Dean busts out a good solid laugh right along with Liz.

"Liz," Jo says in a warning tone, looking away with pink cheeks.

"Aw, come on," Liz says soothingly. "They know we're together already. I'm not saying anything these fine, red-blooded men haven't already been trying to picture in their heads while they stand there."

"Guilty," Dean raises his hand and stays honest as he's found that Liz truly appreciates honesty. John and Sam, however, remain silent.

"See?" Liz points out and Jo rolls her eyes.

"You're so classy," Jo complains.

"I _am_ classy and you know it," Liz fights right back playfully.

"I'm so sorry," Jo looks to the family of men in front of her. "My girlfriend's filter between her brain and very loud mouth doesn't exactly exist."

"It's fine," John smiles. "We're gonna leave you ladies to your morning and grab some lunch."

"It was very good to meet you, John," Liz says. "And to see you again, Sam."

"You too," Sam forces a grin.

"I'll call you tonight?" Dean asks, knowing he was supposed to.

"Uh, actually, I have the night off so Jo and I are gonna spend some time together." With that Liz discretely winks at him, alluding to her plans.

"Ah, well, if you want an audience I'm totally free tonight…" Dean offers and shrugs only to have John smack him upside the head for his lewdness. "Seriously?" he asks his father.

"You're rude."

"And I'm thirty!"

"Then I raised a rude thirty year old and you still deserved it," John answers, getting a laugh out of Sam.

"Dean, I'll call you Monday," Liz settles. "We can catch up over a beer and talk about when I can get my ass into that chair of yours."

"Deal," Dean says and Liz hugs him one last time in departure, Liz placing a quick kiss to his cheek. When done he looks to the blond. "And it was really awesome to meet you, Jo. This girl is seriously crazy about you."

"That's very sweet," Jo says with a warm grin. "And it's good to meet you too."

The men leave and head down the street as Liz and Jo sit down. Jo shoots Liz a knowing look.

"What?" Liz asks her.

"He's hot."

"Uh, _so_ hot, right?" Liz easily responds with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I mean… he's even bordering on beautiful he's so hot," Jo says while peering down the street after the three men. "He's actually kind of pretty."

"Yeah?" Liz looks at Jo hopefully. "Pretty enough for _you_ even?"

Jo shoots her a disappointed look. "Sorry, honey."

"I mean, I know for a fact that Dean would be down," Liz keeps trying, looking to bring her two worlds together. "He's very open to the lesbian community."

"I'm sure he is," Jo says, taking a sip of her mimosa.

"Just think about it…"

"Liz, we already talked about this," Jo reminds her. "I'm not doing that. I'm not into guys."

Liz places her hand on top of her girl's. "I was just hoping for an open mind is all."

"My mind isn't open enough already with our arrangement?" Jo asks with surprise.

"It is," Liz assures with a sweet smile. "I know I was pushing it there but it would make me insanely happy to get the two of you together like that so I had to at least bring it up."

Jo doesn't respond to that, she just looks around the street. "So when you gonna close that deal? After seeing him I'm shocked you haven't already."

"Truth? I don't know if I will."

"Are you kidding me?" Jo asks, completely disbelievingly.

"No," Liz laughs slightly. "It's just… the more I get to know him the more I actually like him."

"_And_?"

"And… I'm not too sure I could get rid of him after. We're becoming good friends and with our rules… I'm not sure I could lose him just because I very, _very_ badly wanna fuck him."

"I see," Jo responds, unsure of what to think of all this. "But you want him."

A slow smile of fondness spreads across Liz's face as she looks down at her glass. The look makes Jo nervous.

"Liz… do I need to be concerned here?"

"Why would you be?" Liz asks right back with surprise.

"I don't know, I just… I get a vibe between you two. There's something there and it's not just lust this time."

"Yeah, because he's a good guy," Liz brushes it off. "He's kind and interesting. I want to be his friend and I want to have sex with him. It's leaving me… confused."

Jo nods, seeing how it would be difficult for her.

"Dean had suggested something." Treading lightly, Liz brings up the idea he came up with on Thursday night.

"I'm listening."

"Fuck buddies."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning Dean and I can have sex when I'm in need of some cock and other than that we are just friends. That way I'm never trolling for ass with strangers and neither of us have to worry about my safety. You could get to know him. I know you'll like him and you could trust him."

Sitting quietly, Jo lets the idea settle in.

"I'm not saying it's perfect but if we can come up with guidelines…"

"I'm not sure I like this," Jo blurts out.

With a quiet and sad sigh Liz nods. "I figured you'd say that."

"There's a reason why I ask you to lose contact with the men you see when you're done with them."

"And I understand that but Dean's different."

"And that's exactly what scares me."

With a confused face Liz peers at her girlfriend. "I could never love anyone the way I love you, Jo."

"I don't doubt that, honey," Jo smiles warmly. "But I don't want things to change, or for you to get hurt. You start seeing him…"

"I won't be seeing him, Jo-Jo. I only see you."

Liz can be so damn flattering and sweet sometimes it always kills her. "I love you. I love our relationship. I can't mess with this, especially if I want my future to be about you and me."

"Right…" Liz recalls what it is Jo has always wanted. "House, kids, white picket fence…"

"I want a family with you," Jo says kindly. "And I fear that this whole fuck buddy thing will screw it up if you fall for him."

"I've already fallen, baby," Liz grabs Jo's hand tightly in hers. "Nowhere further for me to fall."

"You're so slick it scares me," Jo returns, a suppressed smirk on her lips.

"And I love you so much it scares _me_," Liz returns with, kissing the back of Jo's hand. "Losing you would be the end of me and you know it. I'm a mess without you. No matter what, it's me and you. Not even a really pretty cock could come between us."

"You know that he has a pretty cock?" Jo challenges.

"I took all his money at work the other night, didn't I?" Liz shrugs.

"You're a slut." Jo smiles at her.

"And you're the most accepting and open minded girl a trash bag like me could ask for." Liz swoons as she looks at the love of her life sitting across from her.

"You're not a trash bag…" Jo quietly reminds her, hating when she gets down on herself like that. She may be morally different than most but she isn't a bad person for that.

"I'm not as good as you, though. I'm the one that got lucky. You have the patience to handle me and I'm a total pain in the ass."

"That's true but it's worth it so shut up," Jo scolds, squeezing her girl's hand, and she sits back, ready to enjoy the day just the two of them. "And… I love you, too."

* * *

"Why don't you gimme the breakfast burger with extra bacon," Dean says with a grin to their server. "And a beer."

"Sure thing," she answers, smiling wide at him as she takes the menus from the table at the sports bar and leaves the three men be.

Once the family is left alone John and Sam share a glance, wordlessly asking who was going to speak up first. Sam cocks an eyebrow and John gets the green light.

"So, Dean," John starts, hands folded atop the wooden table as the pregame shows play all around them on several screens. "Tell me more about this new friend of yours."

"Liz?" Dean asks, knowing he's already right. "Uh, she's really freakin' cool, actually. Met her a couple weeks ago…"

"At my birthday outing… at a strip club." Sam grin wide at Dean and gets a sour face in return. "She's a stripper."

"Is she?" John needs clarification.

"Yeah, she's a stripper," Dean answers sharply. "And, by the way, they prefer to be called dancers."

It grows quiet as John and Sam stare at Dean.

"What!?" Dean calls out with annoyance. "So what if she's a dancer, huh? You gonna just judge her based on what she does for a living?"

"I never said anything," John points out, amused with Dean's instant defensiveness.

"You didn't need to," Dean spits right back. "I've been battling Sammy all week about this. He's judging the shit outta her before he even gets to know her."

"I think I know her plenty," Sam smirks and John silently points at him in warning. "Oh, come on, Dad! He's trying to get into the pants of a lesbian stripper. He's going off the deep end."

"She's not a lesbian," Dean quietly comments.

"She has a girlfriend…" John reminds him.

"Yeah, but she's bisexual. Her girlfriend is a lesbian. There's a difference."

"Oh, so you want to be the guy on the side that she cheats with then?" Sam fights right back, thinking this whole moral lapse has really put Dean over the edge. He always skirted that line between good person and morally corrupt jackass his whole life and Sam's tired of it.

"Sam, why don't you calm down for a minute here and let me talk, huh?" John sternly suggests and the younger brother shuts his mouth immediately. John then looks to his oldest son. "But he does make a little bit of a point here, Dean. What are you trying do with her?"

"I'm trying to be her friend," Dean answers in a more relaxed tone than before. "She's fascinating. And she's funny and really sharp. We have a ton in common, too. We relate. And she's… different, kinda like I am. When we hang out I feel like I'm normal… unlike when I'm with you two white collar, judgmental dicks…"

"Watch your tone," John warns. They may be adults but his sons will never get away with talking to him like that. "And what about you is so damn abnormal?"

"Sammy's gonna be a lawyer, you're a suit wearing business man… Dad, come on. I don't fit in. I'm different. I'm a tattoo artist for fucks sake."

"Language, dude," John warns, reminding him that they're in public. "And so what if you're a tattoo artist, huh? You own your own business. Just because you don't wear a button-down to work doesn't mean there's not a white collar hanging around your neck just like ours. And you're an artist, a damn good one at that. Don't you dare undervalue yourself like that."

Dean clenches his jaw and sighs. "You know I've always been different than you guys so don't deny it."

"But you were never different in a bad way, Dean," John reminds.

"No, but I never saw the world like you two. Just because you guys see a successful life as being a triple digit salary, a big ass house, and a wife and two kids doesn't mean I do. All I want is to do my job and do it well so I can be proud of my work and find people I can relate to. Liz fits right into that. I like her. She makes me feel good when I'm around her and she's never once looked down on me."

"And she's hot," Sam tacks on, not ready to let it all go. He knows his brother too well.

"Just a little icing on the cake," Dean responds. "Besides, what I do with my life behind closed doors isn't any of your business." He looks pointedly at both his father and brother. "I don't get on Sam's case for how much he stutters and gets nervous around every new girl he meets…"

"Hey!" Sam resents the comment.

"And I haven't _once_ said a word about the fact that you still haven't gone on a date since mom. It's been twenty years," Dean says to John. "I would never say shit about that unless I'm forced to so I can make a point, like right now. I wouldn't. Your love life isn't something I need to concern myself with. I'm just looking for the same respect. If Liz and I are friends, we're friends. If we're more, we're more. The point will be that she'll make me happy, even if the situation is messed up by _traditional_ standards."

This leaves Sam and John completely silent. Dean makes a shockingly compelling argument.

"I'm just asking for you to respect my choices," Dean asks of them. "If I get burned by hanging out with this girl then I get burned. I'm to blame. The traditional relationships I've had have never worked for me and I have no plans to settle down in the near future. Just..."

"Dean," John interrupts. "If you're happy then I'm happy. I think you know that."

Dean nods. His dad is always cool about most things as long as Dean isn't getting hurt and he's genuinely satisfied with his life choices. Doesn't mean he understands and can relate, but he can relax and be content if his sons are happy people in life.

"We're just concerned is all," John continues.

"We don't want to see another Cassandra situation," Sam reminds him of how bad it can get when Dean's relationships can go wrong.

"Liz is no Cassandra. She may be rough around the edges but there's not a malicious bone in Liz's body. She's a good person, and really honest, I know that much. Her biggest concern is making sure I don't get hurt by her. That's proof enough for me."

"What do you mean?" Sam pries.

"I mean… she's the one turning me down right now. She's said no because she doesn't want me to get attached. She's in love with Jo. I understand that and I respect that. If I'll interfere with that then I stay far away. I thought this all through a whole lot. Trust me here. Please."

John takes a deep breath and nods. "I trust you."

"Good."

"And you said you don't like traditional," John laughs a little. "A bisexual stripper that has a committed girlfriend is quite untraditional."

Dean actually huffs a laugh at that. "And she's a tattoo aficionado. You should see some of her work. It's insane."

"Better than your work?" John challenges.

"Oh God, they're way better."

"Doubt it," John says with a little wink in his voice. "You're work's the best there is, son."

Dean rolls his eyes hard but grins from ear to ear with the compliment.

"Alright, enough about my bullshit," Dean announces. "Ask Sam about his new girlfriend."

"What's this?" John turns his full attention to his younger son.

"I went on a few dates with a girl," Sam explains. "Her name's Jess and there's nothing to talk about yet."

"Did you use protection when you didn't come home last night?" Dean asks, looking to place the torment elsewhere, and watches with glee as Sam's face glows a bright red and John all but forgets about Liz the stripper.


	13. Glitter and Ink (Part 4)

"Thank God!" Liz cheers when she arrives at the pub Dean suggested when she called him just a half hour ago asking him to meet her with urgency, the man already standing outside waiting for her. The mere sight of him makes her relax a bit which is exactly what she needs right now. After a few weeks of talking over the phone and through text, meeting up for drinks a few times, they've become very fast friends.

"Hey…" Dean cautiously says, seeing Liz's agitated state from a mile away. She marches towards him with determination, her shoulders tense, and he's upset right along with her right away. "You alright?"

"Whiskey first," she tells him as he holds the door for her, Liz driving right past him. "Then I speak."

They quickly sit down at the bar in the Irish pub and Liz orders two shots of Jameson along with two pints. The second the drinks arrive she clinks her shot glass with his and downs the liquor before he's even picked his shot glass up. Dean then follows along in solidarity, of course… even if he's a bit lost about what's happening right now.

"Ahh," Liz sighs with much relief. "Fucking whiskey. My best fucking friend."

"Ok, what's going on with you?" Dean wonders after taking a sip of his beer.

Liz turns to face him in her bar stool, leaning forward a bit with an elbow on the bar top and narrowing her eyes at him. "You ever thought about settling down?"

"Settling down?" he asks with complete surprise.

"Oh, yeah. The whole… you know, American Dream shit."

Dean gives her a look of total shock. "Where's this coming from?"

"Jo," Liz tells him with upset. "She wants that. She's always wanted that."

"Huh," Dean responds as he considers this for a moment, not having ever looked at Liz as the average Joe kind of girl.

"Yeah," Liz huffs in return and raises her hand at the bartender, pushing her shot glass forward to let him know she wants another.

"I'm getting the feeling you don't necessarily want that," Dean mentions, reading her body language and tone easily.

Liz shakes her head and huffs an almost disgusted laugh. "Nope."

"Yet you're still with her…"

"I love her," Liz remind him, the words said plainly. "I love her so much it's painful and she's always been honest about what she wants. From day one she told me she wanted that life."

"The white picket fence?" Dean asks.

"Exactly," Liz nods, the fresh shots being placed in front of them. Liz grabs hers immediately and downs it. Once she swallows she sighs audibly again. "I knew… I knew going into this at the very beginning that Jo wanted this and I dove in head first anyways. I figured eh, fuck it. In a few years I might be ready for that too. I mean, no one can make a living taking their clothes off forever and having a kid or two might be awesome."

"Understandable," Dean gets a word in, trying to show that he's keeping up with her through this clearly serious and very personal confession of hers.

"But…" Liz sighs with her eyes closed. "She's getting antsy."

"She wants that now?"

"Yeah. She's ready for all that, and maybe I should be too since I'm fucking thirty years old but… fuck. I don't know. The idea of being what she wants me to be kinda scares me."

"What does she want you to be?" Dean pries a little here.

"She wants a wife, a real one," Liz explains. "Right now I'm a fucking stripper that sometimes bangs dudes. She wants me to be mother-material or something like it but… how the hell do I do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, I've never even been around a kid since my sister was little. I don't even know if I _like_ kids."

"No motherly instincts, huh?" Dean huffs a laugh.

"No," Liz answers seriously. "I've never once felt the serious need to have a kid. I know by now I should and it's shocking that I haven't had a fucking kid with how much sex I've had but… I… I don't feel it."

Dean just looks at her with a sympathetic expression, understanding her completely.

"I like my job," Liz continues wistfully. "I like my life the way it is _right now_. I like dancing and making crazy money. I like meeting guys and having sex with them now and then. I like coming home to just my girlfriend. I finally found a place that I like in life, a place I'm comfortable and no one is judging me… why do I have to change it?"

Liz sits there without talking for a moment, taking a huge swig of her beer, and Dean considers all she's just told him. It's a lot to take, especially considering how he's only known her for a few weeks, but he tries to help if he can. He feels the need to help her. Seeing her like this hurts deep down, especially now that he knows her better. To say he's fond of her would be misleadingly not enough.

"Ok, admittedly I don't know Jo," Dean says to her, starting his rebuttal to her own point of view on her predicament. "And maybe I don't really know you all that well either because we just met… but I feel like you're always you. I've never seen you be a different person other than exactly this," he tells her, gesturing to her.

"Fair assessment," Liz confirms for her.

"Ok, so… Jo was upfront when you met, said she wanted a family and if you're with her that's what's gonna happen. But weren't you also pretty upfront? Wasn't it obvious to her that you didn't want that?"

She shuts her mouth at that, peering at him while frozen with no verbal response.

"What?" Dean wonders, confused.

"I might have lied…" Liz winces a bit as she admits this.

"What!?" Dean fires out with wide eyes.

"I liked her _so_ much," she tries to excuse. "For me she was love at first sight. The second I saw her I knew I'd do anything to be with her and back then I thought that even meant settling down in a couple years."

"You _lied_ to her," Dean says with near shock since she's never done that to him… that he knows of at least.

"No. I told her what she wanted to hear and I thought that by now I'd finally have the female thing kick in where I could feel time ticking away and the need to have children would show up. It just… hasn't." She swigs down half her beer in one go.

"Shit," Dean says with this. "You screwed yourself here."

"Thanks for the help," Liz sarcastically replies with an eye roll.

"I'm sorry but I'm just being honest. She put it all out there for you in the beginning…"

"I know."

"And she's been more than understanding of your lifestyle."

"Well aware," Liz says bitterly. "And I know how selfish I'm being. But that life… it doesn't feel right for me yet."

"Will it ever?" Dean challenges her.

She looks at him seriously for a moment, thinking. "Yeah."

"Sounds super convincing," Dean caustically bites as he sips his beer.

"No, I mean it," Liz tells him. "I want a kid at some point, I know that much. But… well, I'm just… I'm not… uh." Liz groans in disgust at not being able to get out her thoughts and instead kills off her beer.

Dean smiles at her to calm her down. "So what's so wrong about this plan of Jo's?"

"Where the fuck do I start?"

"Is it Jo herself?" Dean questions, helping break down her thoughts. "Is it that you don't want to have a kid with Jo?"

"Dean," Liz looks at him with raised eye brows. "I _can't_ have a kid with Jo."

"I don't understand…"

"We'd have to get a donor," Liz points out. "Whatever kid we have would only be either part me or part her and then some stranger. If I'm gonna have a kid with someone I want it to be part both of us, as dickish as that sounds and yes I know it's really, _really_ dickish of me. But Mother Nature's a bitch and we can't have a kid together." She flags down the bartender for another beer. He gets her one and she takes down another sip. "And what if Jo is the biological mom and… and I don't get that attachment. That kid won't _really_ be mine and what if I'm not good enough to love it like I'm supposed to?"

"You don't think you'd love the kid for being a part of Jo?" Dean turns it around.

"I just get scared that I won't love it _enough_ and once we're in that situation… there's no turning back. And I can't leave her. I can't."

"Then… what if _you_ had the kid," Dean shrugs. "If you're the biological mom then problem solved, right?"

"She wants to have it," Liz tells him. "She's dead set on it, or at least the first one. It's what she's always wanted."

"Well shit," Dean sits back in his chair with a loss of words.

"I know."

Liz sighs and faces the bar in front of her, spinning her glass of beer on the bar top. Neither speak for a moment.

"She wants to move."

Dean sharply turns to look at Liz as his heart springs up into his throat. "To where?"

"California," she tells him without looking at him. "She's applied for a job at Stanford. She could easily get it too with how good she is."

Dean's heart starts pounding at the idea of her leaving. "And you'd go with?"

Liz shrugs. "What else would I do?"

"Stay here," Dean plays devil's advocate and she looks at him with an odd expression. "Or go back to New York. Or move to fucking France, I don't know."

"I love Jo…"

"You've said that," Dean nods. "But you also love being you. And you love fucking men. You love a lot of things. I'm just saying, before you make a big ass decision that will change your life… make sure you're gonna like the life you pick. Think hard. If you're not ready for that life that Jo wants for you…" Dean sighs when he sees how one sided he sounds. "I'm not trying to get you to dump her. If you love her and think you'll be happy then go for it… but I think you're having reservations for a reason."

Liz looks at him with a helpless look before dropping her forehead onto the bar.

Dean laughs a little at her dramatic antics. "You do realize that you're this upset over the fact that someone loves you so much that it's crazy, right?"

"Don't try and logic me out of this," Liz says to the bar.

"I'm just saying you have a lot going for you," Dean tells her as Liz picks her head up off the bar and looks at him. "I've never been in love like that. I've never cared about someone like you care about her. I'm… shit, I'm a little jealous."

"Yeah, well, love causes more problems than it solves so consider yourself lucky," Lizzy says in a completely downer tone.

"Yeah, I don't think that's how it's supposed to work," Dean says to her with the depressing comment.

"How would you know?" Lizzy asks and Dean immediately looks a little hurt. "No, it's just… you said, like, one second ago that you've never been in love."

"But I've _seen_ love. My parents were the real deal. They didn't ever let the cost of being together outweigh the goodness of being together. You say it's about sacrificing who you are… but from what I've seen love is about happily accepting who the other person is. My mother never asked my dad to change and my dad always took who my mom was with a smile, even the annoying shit about her. They compromised and problem solved, they never assumed one would ever change who they are for the other."

"So what, you're saying I don't love Jo?" Liz asks with insult.

"No," Dean immediately answers. "I think that if Jo wanted you to move tomorrow and gave you an ultimatum then you'd absolutely go."

Liz just nods her agreement with his guess.

"I just hope that's the right decision and that she'd do the same for you in a heartbeat, that's all. You don't deserve to be treated with anything but respect. I just hope Jo isn't pushing you too hard. I hope she respects you because I…." Dean pause there and cuts off himself off. Whoa. Too much honesty was about to come out.

Liz looks at him funny when he doesn't finish his statement. "Because you _what_?"

He contemplates lying for a second about how he's been feeling the more he gets to know her, knowing it'd be easier on her, but fuck that. She's been truthful from the second she met him. "Because I would."

"_You_?" Liz's wide eyes stare at him like he's nuts.

Dean nods and smiles nervously. "Yeah. You're different than most people in every single good way there is, at least to me you are. I've never met anyone like you and I know for a fact that if you were not taken already I would have been relentless with you starting on the first night I met you."

Liz huffs a laugh. "If I were single we wouldn't be here right now. We'd be in a bed somewhere."

"Not what I'm saying," Dean stops her from taking it to strictly sex. "I mean, please… I would be trying to get you alone every free second of the day if you were single, no doubt. But what I meant was I'd want more than that. I'd want everything I could get from you. And I hate that you're more afraid of who you _aren't_ than more concerned with who you are since I think who you are is fucking exceptional. I respect who you are."

"What is this?" Liz questions with sheer confusion and some fear in her chest. "What are you doing right now?"

"Being honest, just like you've been with me from the jump," Dean tells her. "I'll take the friendship with a damn smile on my face. Hell, I'll be downright giddy for just that. I'll take whatever I can get without fucking with your life. I just hope Jo knows what she's got is all."

"Man," Liz awes at him, a hand on her forehead as she shakes her head. "You just admitted you wanted to be with a stripper that already has a girlfriend. You are _damaged_." She laughs a little.

"Only just slightly less damaged than you, darling," Dean smirks at her and as easily as that the tension of the conversation is gone.

"Fuck," Liz shakes her head. "Where were you when I moved here, huh?"

"Around," Dean tells her, having lived there his whole life.

"Well then you should have come to the strip club a whole lot sooner," Liz chuckles to herself.

"No shit, right?" he laughs right back.

"Ugh," Liz groans with annoyance. "I just wanna get drunk and have some fun before heading back into the dog house."

"Well if you don't mind the company then I'll get hammered right along with you," Dean offers, getting the sense that she wanted him around right now.

"You might regret that offer," Liz tells him before ordering another round of shots.

* * *

"Jesus Christ," Dean laughs at the end of the night as he holds Liz up and keeps her on her feet. She's stumbling in her shiny patented leather heels after getting quite drunk at the bar and are now heading out into the street. "You got fucking tanked."

"Whatever," Lizzy comments with annoyance as they walk out into the night at closing time on a Tuesday. She tries to stand up taller and play off her drunkenness once it's been called out. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," Dean flat out laughs at her now.

"Shut up," Liz complains and pulls a bit at her tight white tank top to straighten it out. She then remembers that closing time means one thing. "Ugh. Don't wanna go home."

"You gotta go home," Dean reminds her gently. "Jo will be worried. Come on."

"Ugh," Liz complains again with a loud voice. "I'm probably gonna have to sleep on the couch."

"You'll survive," he huffs a laugh as she steps away from his arm around her waist.

"Hey, uh, call me… tomorrow… before, like, five o'clock," Liz says in pieces as she leans her back into the side of the building and starts digging into her purse. "I wanna get going on that… uh…"

"Tattoo?" Dean smirks with her inability to multitask.

"Yes!" Liz cheers as she takes out her metal cigarette holder and pops one into her mouth. "I'm so fucking excited… for that." She lights it up and takes a long drag.

"Me too," Dean admits, watching the drunken woman try to stand up on her heels again, tripping a bit as he doesn't even bother hiding the fact that he's checking her out. She makes a pair of ripped up black skinny jeans look utterly fantastic. She trips on her shoes. "Watch it," he tells her, grabbing her arm.

"I'm good," she lies to him and stands up straight. She looks up at him, smiling when she gets a closer view of him. "Damn. Almost forgot how pretty you are."

"Pretty? Really?" he asks with fake insult.

"Dude, I love pretty," she laughs a little and steps away from him. "Goodnight, Dean."

She starts to walk away down the road and towards her home but Dean knows she'll never make it. He runs after her.

"No fucking way," he says to her, his arm this time around her shoulders as he stands right next to her. "I'm walking you home this time. And you don't get a say."

"Fuck you," she denies him but despite her words she leans some of her weight into him.

"I'm not saying you can't handle it on a regular day, you fucking lush," Dean laughs at her. "Just this one time you might need a little help."

"Ass," she calls him as she brings an arm around his lower back and leans into him harder, accepting the help without verbally doing so.

"Good one," Dean pokes fun. "You know, when you're drunk you really become… less intimidating."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… normally you're this very self-assured and tough skinned chick. Then you get hammered and you're all nice and apparently touchy-feely." He smirks as she tightens her arm around him.

"I'm actually a cuddler," Liz admits. "Love that shit."

"Would've never thought it," Dean tells her and laughs a little.

"This way," Liz points around the corner and they turn down a new road. They walk a little longer and Liz sighs. "I like you, Dean."

"You're not so bad yourself," he brushes her off with a light laugh.

"No… I _like_ you," she tries to clarify in her haze of booze. "I think you're a really good person and I _like_ you." She then laughs with slight disgust. "As if I wasn't already in enough trouble…"

"Well, if it helps, you already know how I feel about you," Dean tells her, helping her stay on her feet when she trips again. "You just figure out what you want and go for it. Either way… if you're happy then… I'll be happy for you."

"You making me pick between you and Jo?"

"I would never do that," Dean tells her with full truth. He means it.

"I love Jo."

"You trying to convince me of that or yourself?" Dean asks when he's heard her say this so many times tonight.

"Don't be an ass."

"Sorry," he apologizes immediately.

"I hope she isn't still mad at me," Liz thinks ahead as they get closer to her apartment. "I hate when she's mad at me. It feels awful."

"Don't worry about that until we get there."

They walk in silence for a few minutes until they reach a big, beautiful brick building.

"Home sweet home," Liz caustically comments and pulls her keys out to unlock the front door. They head inside to a lobby with a big front desk, the place nothing short of a ritzy hotel.

"Fuck me, you live here?" Dean asks with total shock while looking around.

"I make a lot, Jo makes a lot…" she trails off and waves her hand through the air as if it doesn't matter but Dean's thoroughly impressed.

"Evening, Liz… or should I say morning?" the man at the front desk greets with a smile.

"Mornin' Jerry," she says right back and leans an elbow on the desk to smile at him. "How are you?"

"Better than you, drunkie," he laughs at her, pegging her immediately. "The hell are you doing out this late on a Tuesday?"

"Enjoying the fine company of my friend Dean here," Liz says, gesturing grandly to her company.

"Hey there," Dean greets slightly uncomfortably.

"Hey," Jerry answer back quickly before returning to Liz. "Sweetie, go sleep it off."

"Will do," Liz says, pushing off the desk and heading for the elevator.

"And don't wake Jo, huh!?" Jerry yells to her. "She's not a morning person as it is…"

"Yeah, yeah," Liz laughs and walks away, taking her heels off as she does. When she trips over her own feet Dean knows he should get her to her apartment even if he was looking to avoid heading up to where she lives with her girlfriend. He doesn't want to intrude.

"You're a fucking mess, you know that?" he asks her, taking her shoes from her and pulling her to her feet again.

"I'm fucking awesome," she rebuts while pressing the button for the elevator.

"Yes, you're an awesome mess," he smirks at her and she swats his arm.

Once they make it to Liz's floor in a comfortable silence she drops her keys as they make it to her door.

"I got it," Dean tells her and picks up the keys for her. He then pulls an arm around her again to keep her upright as he attempts to get her into her apartment. Taking a guess he tries to unlock the door for her but it's the wrong key. "Liz, which one is it?"

"Um, this one…" she points to a key and Dean goes to try again but before he can the door opens from the inside.

Jo makes a surprised face as she stands there in her silky dark maroon robe, her hair piled high on her head in a messy bun, when she sees Dean. She then gets one good look at Liz and understands completely.

"You got wasted," Jo says with concern in her tone.

"I dealt with our fight," Liz answers as she leans into Dean with all her weight, making him feel a little weird within the situation.

"Baby, it wasn't that big of a fight," Jo says warmly.

"I don't like fighting with you," Liz shrugs as she watches Jo take her shoes from Dean. "Hate it."

"Thank you," Jo says to Dean suddenly. "It's nice to know Liz has a friend that'll look after her like this. I know now that I can worry less if she's with you."

"Uh, you're welcome," Dean says hesitantly considering how guilty he now feels. He just confessed to Liz he felt a little more for her than he should and she all but said the same… yet here Jo is saying thank you to him.

"Come on, Lizzy," Jo says affectionately as she holds out her arms.

Liz lets go of Dean and steps into Jo, hugging her girlfriend hard with her face buried in her hair. "I love you so much."

"I know you do," Jo smiles softly to hear her say that. "And I love you too. I just hate when you get this drunk."

"I hate when you're mad at me," Liz says in such a small voice that Dean feels like he doesn't even know her. That is not the bold, confidence-filled woman he knows. That's a scared little girl at best.

"I'm not mad," Jo assures, pulling her back to look her in the eye. "We just have a lot to figure out."

"Don't leave me," Liz asks in a whisper, her drunkenness making her turn into a totally different person.

"I would never," Jo smiles softly and puts a hand on her Liz's cheek before turning to Dean. "Thanks again, Dean. I really appreciate it."

Dean just nods without a word.

"Goodnight, Dean," Liz says to him sadly as Jo closes the door.

"Night, Liz," he says back as the door clicks shut. He's left out there alone, nothing to show for his kindness, and has to wonder why he feels so fucking awful now. He left her in the very good hands of her girlfriend but now, once she's gone, Dean can feel a pit in his stomach.


	14. Glitter and Ink (Part 5)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

Parking out front of the tattoo shop in downtown Boulder, Liz gets out of the car and smiles as she looks the storefront over. It's small but it looks very promising. The vintage style font in the window spelling out Winchester Ink along with the clearly 1950's inspired interior is right up her alley. She's now more excited than before to get inside… which should have been impossible. She's been looking forward to checking out Dean's shop for days now.

She opens the front glass door, the bell on it jangling as she does, and smiles wide when she can hear Junior Walker and the All Stars playing over the speakers. She loves the song '(I'm a) Road Runner' and Dean knew that. During their Thursday bar tip right after they'd first met she mentioned she loved them and he clearly put this on for her knowing she would be there today.

"Hey!" Dean's smiling face greets her as he walks out from the back of the shop after hearing someone come in.

"Hey there," Liz returns brightly as she looks around. The black and white checkered floors, the red detailing on the trim of the walls and register, the old school yet still modern styled inspiration sheets framed on the walls… she's feeling at home already. "This place is great."

"Thanks," Dean smirks with pride. "How you doing?"

"Since I talked to you this morning?" she jokes with him. "I'd say about the same."

"That's good." Dean bashfully looks to the floor with a smile, knowing he's being weird. He's just so excited to get to work with her, to make her concept that hits home for him a reality, that he's actually a little nervous. "I was more talking about since Tuesday night but fine."

Liz just shakes her head with a smile. "I was tanked Tuesday night. And a miserable sack. Sorry about that."

"You are an interesting drunk so no apologies."

"Interesting or not, I dropped a lot of heavy personal stuff on you so… again, sorry."

He swears he can see a blush form over her cheeks. "It's fine, Liz. Don't worry about it. That's what friends do, right?"

"Right. Yeah… so I told Jo what I was gonna get done," Liz tells him, dropping her purse on the counter and leaning against it while facing him. "Luckily she digs the shit outta chicks with tats because I want this one to take up my whole back."

"Did you tell her why you're getting it?"

"No."

"Seriously?" Dean asks with shock. "Why not?"

"She wouldn't understand," Liz admits, brushing it off like it doesn't mean much. "She believes in concrete evidence only. I think it's one of the personality traits that makes her a great professor but I'm willing to bend my beliefs a little. I doubt we know about everything that's really out there."

"So you've only told me about this whole angel thing?" Dean pries, suddenly feeling quite honored and special.

"Ah, yeah… I guess so," Liz says when it dawns on her that she's done that. The fact that she was open enough to him to admit something so nuts makes her think twice about him. She's been doing a lot of that lately.

"Aww…" Dean patronizes and nudges her shoulder.

"How can I get you to never do that again?" Liz wonders jokingly with the too sweet and not exactly manly move.

"Well, I'm flattered that you feel like you can share that shit with me because it is fucking weird."

"Yeah…" Liz trails off, contemplating saying more. "Uh, I didn't tell you before but… I kinda had another dream like that recently."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks with obvious curiosity and a bit of concern.

"When I went to bed after that night we met at my club I had one of those dreams again. I could feel him in the room even if I couldn't quite see him and this time I never got a message from him, which was weird. But I saw his wings again. They looked exactly like I remembered. Big, black, just beautiful…"

Dean clears his throat with a little fear and confusion. "Uh," he starts, nervous as he moves behind the counter to take out a manila folder stashed there. He opens it and pushes a sheet of paper across the glass to her. "Did they look like this?"

"Holy shit!" Liz instantly lets out, her voice frightened and shocked as she looks the drawing over, the folded-in black wings being perfectly what she's seen before. "That's them! This is exactly what I've been seeing my whole life! Dean!" She looks up at him with wide, confused eyes. "What the hell!? How did you do that!?"

"I've seen them too," he admits to her, knowing how fucked up it is to let her know.

Liz freezes, her brown eyes locked on his as she tries to process this news and what the hell it could possibly mean. Her heart pounds in her chest with… fear? No, Dean doesn't scare her, not even right now. But she's alarmed as all hell.

"When you told me at the bar that you'd seen what you'd seen as a kid it freaked me the fuck out," Dean admits, washing a hand down his face. "I had just seen the same thing and what you said… how you explained it? It was exactly what I'd dreamed."

"When?" she has to know. "When did you dream this?"

Dean pauses and swallows hard. "The night I met you."

The air leaves her lungs with the confession. "The fuck does that mean?" she asks, her head swimming with shock and confusion.

Dean shakes his head. "I have no freakin' idea."

Liz looks back down at the wings on the page. They're sleek and impressive. The detailing shows the lines of each individual feather, the shading perfectly showing what she witnessed all those years ago and just a few weeks before, the night she first met him.

"I'm weirded out," Liz admits finally as she takes a step away from the drawing. "This is weirding me the fuck out, Dean."

"I'm right there with you," he assures her, pressing his palms into the counter top while staring at her.

It gets silent in the shop front aside from the music, both attempting to process everything. It makes no sense to either.

"This has to mean something, right?" Dean tells her with eyes practically pleading for her to agree. "I mean, it has to… doesn't it? That kind of coincidence doesn't exist."

"I, I… I don't know," she shakes her head, stuttered words proving her freaked out state.

"We were supposed to meet," he says with absolute certainty, the song changing to 'What Does it Take'.

"What!?"

"We were," Dean shrugs. "Liz, think about it. A dream you've had over and over as a kid comes back _now_ and on the same night I have the same exact dream_… the night we meet_." He shakes his head. "That _has_ to mean something. That has to mean we were meant to meet each other, doesn't it?"

Looking at him with a frozen face of bewilderment. "I don't know… about that…"

"I do," Dean nods easily and stops her reluctance. "Look, I know you're with Jo and I know you love her but hear me out." He walks around the counter and grabs her hand, leading her to the couch in the waiting area. He sits down and she does the same next to him with their knees angled towards each other, Dean keeping his grip on her hand the entire time. "I _really_ like you. From the second I saw you… I don't know, I just felt something in me, like, snap. Like I'd been asleep for so long and I finally woke up."

Liz isn't ready to hear this. He's about to air everything she's been worried about with him since they'd met. She had been keeping him at arm's length for her own ease. "Dean, please don't…"

"I'm different around you," he keeps plowing through all he needs to say and has kept bottled tight for weeks. "I'm a better version of myself and… life just _feels_ better when I'm with you. The more I get to know you the more I need you in my life and I know that sounds insane since it's only been a couple weeks that I've known you… but it's true."

Liz nods and hates that everything he tells her rings just so true with her.

"When I'm with you I am the definition of happy. When I'm not… I'm thinking about you. All the time," Dean confesses. "I fall asleep picturing you in my head every damn night and I keep telling myself that it means nothing, that I just found myself a good friend that happens to be really hot… but it's more than that. I didn't want to fuck with your relationship with Jo, I still don't, but I have to be honest. You've been nothing but truthful with me from the jump and now, with this dream thing, you need to know how I feel." Dean takes a deep breath and looks right at her shocked face. "I tried to deny it and stop it from happening but… I'm falling for you."

"Fuck," Liz sighs with sheer upset and fear as she covers over her eyes with her free hand. She takes a few inhales to calm herself and it doesn't work. She was hoping he'd never say any of these things out loud and just make her life easy.

"I'm sorry," he immediately apologizes with her reaction. "I know you don't feel the same…"

"You're wrong," she cuts in but doesn't lift her head or uncover her eyes.

"Am I?" Dean asks, his heart jumping with promise.

"Yes," her voice elevates and chokes up. "Fucking shit." She looks up at him with watery eyes and a wrinkled expression that lets him know he's not alone as much as it kills her to admit.

They sit silently as Liz wipes her eyes once, taking her hand back from him.

"This is what I was afraid of with you," Liz confesses to him. "We had a connection right away, alone that night in the back room of my club, and I should have ignored it. I should have walked away. But… being with you was fun and easy and, damn it… it felt right. And now I've fucked up everything."

"You didn't fuck anything up, Liz," Dean assures her. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did," Liz nods. "Because now, even sometimes when I'm with Jo… I find my brain drifting to you. That shouldn't be happening. I love my girl so much and I would never…." She takes a moment to collect her thought and wipes her cheeks again. "She deserves so much better than me."

"You can't possibly think that?" Dean denies the idea, knowing that Liz is something exceptional that any person would be happy to have in their lives. He knows she is.

"I may not have done anything yet but I've already cheated on her," Liz explains guiltily. "I know myself. I won't be able to stay away from you for good if we fuck but I won't be able to keep this platonic. I know who I am. I _hate_ who I am, but I know who I am. I've done this over and over again, just sabotaging every relationship because there's something seriously wrong with me."

"You have got to stop thinking there's something wrong with you…"

"Shut up," Liz tells him, not looking for the reassuring boyfriend-like bullshit from him. "Most people commit to one person and they don't need guidelines and rules so that their need to look elsewhere for sex can be satisfied. Jo puts up with that from me all the time. She's so patient and so fucking understanding… but she shouldn't have to do that. She should find a good woman that only needs her." Liz lets out a hard sob. "I don't want to be this broken freak anymore."

"Don't do that," Dean sternly says to her, angry that she could think this way. "You're not a freak."

"I am."

"Then so am I."

Liz rolls her eyes at him.

"I'm different, too," Dean tells her. "I've fucked over every relationship I've ever had just like you."

She stops and listens at this point.

"I've never felt anything strong enough from anyone else to make me be honest," he explains. "Just like you I feel like… I'm always left needing more. Sex in the City? I cheated on her. With her sister. And I did the same to the girl before that. And the two girls that I had been seeing at the same time before that."

She looks at him with surprise.

"I've never been happy with anyone. Every woman has left me feeling… like, like something was missing. And in the end I wander every time because I'm not fulfilled or because they don't like what I like in bed or… I'm fucking bored out of my mind." He smiles oddly when he thinks about it. "One girl even cheated on me and I found out. She didn't know I'd been fucking some other chick on the side for a while at that point but when I found out what she did I lost it. I dumped her and became so depressed. I couldn't believe that someone did that to me even if I'd done it so many times. I knew what a hypocrite I was but it didn't matter. Liz, you say you're broken but… so am I. I'm _shattered_."

"Why would this make me happy to know?" Liz asks him. His unfaithful ways should be a red flag, not a comfort.

"Because I feel more for you than I did any of those girls I lied to. I feel sick at the idea of ever lying to you like that. I've never felt this way ever in my life. This has to be for a reason."

"That makes no sense," she denies.

"Why not?"

"Because… you'd just be on the other side of it. I'd be cheating with you."

"I don't care," Dean confesses to her immediately. "I'd rather Jo was cool with it but if she's not… I don't give a fuck."

"How can you not care?" Liz rebuts quickly. He has to care. Everyone cares.

"Because I'll take whatever I can get with you," Dean says sincerely. "If that means that you never really love me like you do Jo and that I have to share you… then fine. I want you that much and I will take what I can get. Whatever that means and whatever that takes to make work… then I'll do it."

He's a mess. He didn't lie. They're both just so broken and abnormal to the rest of the world. But Dean understands her. He truly does.

"It'll never be just the two of us," Liz makes sure he gets it fully, set in stone, that they won't be together just the two of them.

"I know."

"I won't leave Jo."

"As long as she makes you happy I hope you don't."

With that comment she can't hold herself back anymore. Liz launches across the couch and crashes into him, her lips devouring his in a flash as she grabs his face in her hands.

It takes a good five second to understand what is happening for Dean. He was spilling his guts for her just now and suddenly he's feeling her kiss him with sheer desperation. He's been dying to have her do this again since they were at the club, the last time she kissed him, and it seems like so long ago now. He can't believe he was able to wait.

"I want you, Dean," Liz tells him with utter need as she presses every inch of her body that she can against his. "Right now." This feels shockingly right. Everything about it, from the way his hands grab at her to the comfort she has doing this when she knows she shouldn't. Nothing beside Jo has ever felt this right.

"Wait here," Dean says while standing quickly. He rushes to the front door and locks it, turning the open sign over to reflect Winchester Ink's temporary closing. Dean then walks back to her with long, purposeful strides. Grabbing her hand, he pulls her up onto her feet and into him hard while 'Shotgun' starts up. A hand in her hair, he holds her there, kissing her again with urgency. Waiting and behaving himself this whole time has been nothing short of torture. He had been ready to break and thank God she's giving him the green light now.

Her arms immediately around his neck, she digs her fingers into his hair and pulls him tight. Her carnal lust for this man has been on overdrive and add that into his confessions… she's done waiting. She can feel how deeply in trouble she could be for this move but she doesn't care in the moment.

Dean turns them and backs her through the waiting area to a door marked 'Employees Only'. He presses her into it, his hips forcing into hers as he pins her against the wood. His teeth drag down her bottom lip with just enough of a vice grip to hurt a little and Liz moans with deep appreciation.

Pulling keys from his pocket, Dean unlocks the door while Liz presses up on her toes to get her mouth on his neck. He fumbles a bit when she grazes his skin with her teeth.

"Like I said," he smirks, turning the knob and shoving the door open with impatience.

"What did you say?" Liz asks in a low, deep tone as her lips brush his ear.

"You like it a little rough," Dean answers, a smirk on his face as he picks her up and walks a few steps before putting her down on his desk in his office. "Which is perfect."

"Why's that?" Liz wonders, her hands pulling his neck down to her, kissing him again. She can't stay away from his lips.

Without warning, Dean takes a handful of her hair and pulls downward, her head flying back and exposing her neck to him. "Because I like to give it a little rough," Dean reminds her as his tongue runs slowly up the side of her neck. She lets out a slight sound of sheer enjoyment while her hands grip tight to his shoulders and he grins. "And I have a feeling you can take everything I have to give you."

"Bring it on," her lust-coated voice asks from him instantly. She wants everything he has, all of it, especially if she's going to break some rules for him. And he's right. She can handle a lot when it comes to sex and with him she certainly wants to.

Dean grins so wide he thinks his cheeks will break before he moves back to her mouth, his tongue quickly playing against hers as if they've done this a million times before. The way she fits against him is just right. The way she kisses him is just right. The way she buzzes with excitement, humming into his mouth and raking her fingernails lightly down his back while he takes her lips as his is just right.

Ending their kissing to look right into her eyes, Dean starts at the hollow of her throat and runs a firm hand down her front, moving slowly over her shirt as he does. Once at her waist he grabs the bottom of her t-shirt with both hands.

"Been dying to see this fucking body again for weeks," Dean tells her as he lifts her clothing overhead. The second he sees her large, perfect breasts framed by her black lace bra he sighs with adoration. "Fuck, the things I wanna do to you…" he says almost fully for himself as he kisses her again, leaning over her and forcing her to lay back. He pushes a stapler and a stack of papers to the side so that by the time her back touches the cold metal surface it's clear for her.

She sits back up immediately and begins pulling at his t-shirt, desperate to get it off of him and get a good look at the man driving her insane.

Standing up for just a second, Dean tears his shirt over his head.

"Oh… _fuck_ yeah," Liz lets out when she sees him. His torso, just as muscular and built as she assumed it was, is covered in artwork. The one tattoo he showed her of his angelic mother in flames covers his right side. Running the length of his left side is an old antique Winchester rifle. On his upper chest he has a pentagram within a circle of flames all in black and opposite that a paragraph's worth of script she's not willing to take the time to read right now. Dean's left shoulder and upper arm also has something on it, a skull maybe, but in her haze of sheer intense want at finally getting to see more of him she saves the inspection for later. And the coupe de gras for her is when she sees the small, barbell piercing through this left nipple. Liz exhales hard a few times at how absolutely hot he is. "Oh my God."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Holy shit," Liz awes as she looks up at him, her eyes bigger than ever with the shock of all that just happened.

Dean focuses on her, her legs now to either side of him as she still breathes hard with everything. "You said it," he huffs, his own surprise clearly being shared by her.

"Oh… that is so _not_ the last time we do that," Liz tries to assure him, making it clear that this was not about to be a one and done situation as per her rules.

"You might as well have just told me I won the damn lottery," Dean smirks, his hands already running the length of her legs as he looks down at her, feeling a whole lot more than he thinks he should in the moment.

And Liz just smiles up at him. "Didn't you?"

* * *

"Sorry about the setting," Dean jokes as he gestures to the tattoo shop office around them, complete with bare white walls and minimal furniture. "I don't usually like to pick such a cold and unsexy place for a first time with a chick."

"Trust me. It's fine," Liz assure as Dean reaches into a desk drawer by her side and pulls out a rolled joint. She sways a little to 'Cars Hiss By My Window' by the Doors while still sitting on the desk. She loves this song and Dean's nailing it with the playlist of blues-inspired songs he put on once they finished up and started to relax. "It was… exciting."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I mean I assume you have employees?" Liz questions and Dean nods to confirm it. "Well then, any of them could have walked right in here at any point. The door was wide the fuck open. We never closed it."

"Ah, the we-could-have-gotten-caught thing does it for you?" he asks while holding up the joint for her to see in silent question.

Liz nods and smiles at both questions he asks.

"Huh," he smirks with her answer. "Exhibitionist."

"Kind of," Liz tries to clarify with a laugh. "I'm not gonna go shoot a porn tomorrow but the thrill of fucking somewhere that someone could find us… what's not to find exciting?"

"Plus you dance naked for strangers all the time."

"Good point," she smirks at him.

"Mm," Dean calls out to get Liz's attention as he lights the joint between his lips and takes a long pull. From his seat in the big black desk chair he immediately hands it over. She leans down a bit from her spot sitting on his desk right in front of him, her feet on the chair seat to either side of his hips, and takes it.

"I love living in Colorado," she comments while taking a drag herself. "Weed abounds."

"It's nice, isn't it?" Dean agrees.

"So nice," Liz exhales and sighs, feeling pretty damn good right about now.

Dean sits there, relaxed for the first time in weeks. He'd been a wound up ball of anxiety once he found out about Liz's girlfriend. But now, seeing as they've both come to realize that whatever they are is something bigger than they assumed, he's taking the time to revel in that. He knew the second he saw her she was something he's never come across before. And then this happened. He knows now he underestimated her somehow, even if he already looked at her as something to behold. She's fucking spectacular.

Liz passes the joint back and Dean takes it. He inhales deeply again as he sits comfortably and looks her over. Neither of them bothered getting dressed and they lounge around his office completely naked. Thank God for that. She's beautiful. Every line of her body is long and lean. Her legs go on forever, her ass just the epitome of perfection, her breasts make his mouth water, and to top it all off her face is just gorgeous with her bright brown eyes and high cheek bones. He isn't shocked at all that she has two people after her, completely head-over-heels for her. She should have more than just two.

"Fuck, you are just… perfect," Dean tells her, sitting up tall to give her the joint back. When she takes it he steals the opportunity to run his hands up her legs and to her hips, scooting the desk chair forward to hold onto her.

"I already let you fuck me, Dean," she laughs a little. "No need to try so hard anymore."

"Oh, I'm not sucking up," he ensures her. "Just speaking the truth. This is the body of a fucking goddess." He ducks down and kisses her right thigh.

"Then worship me if you must," Liz smirks a little and takes a puff. And when she exhales her smile fades. "You know, being honest here… that was, uh, _something_." She arches an eyebrow at him.

"It was awesome," he clarifies, hands still on her as he looks up at her bright brown eyes.

"And I don't usually find _that_."

"_That_?"

"Yeah, uh… that connection, I guess," Liz explains herself as Dean just looks up at her. "I mean, you felt that… right?"

"Oh, I felt all of it," Dean jokes a bit and smiles to reassure her.

"Yeah. It's definitely there," she says quietly. "And now I'm worried."

"About Jo?" he wonders, kissing a little higher on her leg.

"No, about the dangerously close to happening ethnic civil war in the South Sudan," she dryly jokes back and Dean just looks at her with a shocked face. "Never assume anything. I'm hot _and_ informed."

Dean moves the chair into her as close as he can, his knees under the desk as he brings his arms around her seated waist, taking a second to lightly smooth over the fingertip-sized bruises on her hips he left behind. "What do you think she'll say to you?"

"I think she'll say I need to lose your number now," Liz answers, scooting forward until she's thrush against him. She brings her arm around his shoulders and with the other hand offers the joint to him. Dean leans forward and takes a hit while she holds it for him as he looks up at her. "She didn't seem too interested in changing the rules to allow for this."

"But she didn't say no?" Dean asks as he lets out a puff of smoke.

"Not exactly," Liz admits, kissing his cheek slowly just simply out of liking him in the moment. "She said she didn't like it. And it scared her."

"But that's not a no," Dean says hopefully, kissing her neck once as his hands drift up her back slowly. Now that he's touched her, tasted her, felt her… he never wants to be away from this. His tongue slides across her collarbone with unabashed want. "We could work on it. Make her see it can work… over time."

"I don't think she has a choice on that one," Liz admits, eyes closed as she gets a little lost in him again. His talent in all things sex just blows her mind in a way that's different than anyone else, even Jo. With Jo it's always deep and meaningful, even if aggressive or fun. But Dean… Dean scratches an itch that she didn't even know she had. He's hot, erotic in a way that she doesn't find randomly. The way he moves and takes what he wants is supremely sexy and she needs this always now that she's found it. "I'm not letting this go so easily."

"Glad I could open your mind," Dean growls into her ear before dragging his teeth down her earlobe. "Whatever it takes to make this work… I'll do it. You just tell me what to do." Dean brings his face to hers, only an inch if that between them, and looks up at her seriously. "Anything, you name it. I just want to be with you when I can."

Liz swallows hard. She's created a monster with him, one that just wants to be with her. And what's worse is that she understands how he feels exactly. Liz feels it herself. She felt this way when she first was with Jo and she feels the same exact way now. For the time being she ignores it but she knows when she leaves the reality of her situation will kick in hard.

"Want to be with me all over again right now?" she asks, her tone laden with want and zero joking as she looks to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Liz slides off the edge of the desk seamlessly as she straddles him in his desk chair. Once at eye level with each other, Liz puts the joint to her lips backwards, lit end in her mouth. She then blows, their lips less than an inch away, and shotguns a hit. Dean sucks in the lungful of smoke and when done he pulls the joint from her mouth and presses his lips to hers slowly.

He kisses her long, slow, and nothing like before.

"Fuck it, I'm not even opening the shop back up today," Dean tells her, exhaling the smoke and kissing her again with sheer lust for the woman in his lap. "I'm making this my day."

The first time was fast and hard with the lust that came with holding back and their being together slightly forbidden. This time he's going to take his time with her, make her purr and prove to her that she belongs right where she is. With him.

* * *

"Hi baby," Jo says cheerfully as Liz walks into their apartment after leaving the tattoo shop hours later.

"Hey," Liz answers back, her voice quiet as she drops her purse onto the kitchen table and kicks her boots off, a forced smile on her face through the guilt.

"I thought you were just heading to Dean's shop for a little bit?" Jo asks, getting up from the couch and walking over to her girlfriend. "To check out his progress on the wings."

"I did," Liz nods, swallowing hard.

"For five hours?" Jo smiles wide, knowing she's missing something as she stands in front of Liz.

Staring for a split second, she makes a decision. "We went and got drinks and hung out for a little bit after," she lies completely.

"Oh, ok," Jo smiles, already having accepted that Dean has been a good friend of hers. They are a lot alike, she can see that, so it makes sense. "You want dinner?"

"Nah," Liz brushes off as she walks past Jo and heads for the living room. "Not hungry."

"Have you ever been not hungry in your life?" Jo jokes as she starts to putter around the kitchen, making herself something to eat.

"Don't know," Liz tries to brush it off and turns on the TV, looking for a way out of talking to Jo. She's feeling about two foot tall at best with how bad her dishonesty is. Avoidance is the best thing for her until the guilt wears off a little.

"Hey, ah, I was thinking," Jo says loudly to her in the other room. "Maybe we should go away this weekend."

"Why?" Liz asks without thinking, hating the tone she uses immediately.

"Um, why not?" Jo laughs a little. "We could head to the mountains and get a nice little cabin or something."

"I have to work," Liz lies again instantly, not wanting to do such a thing. It's hard enough lying to Jo. Being just the two of them for a full weekend would make it impossible.

"You told me you were gonna take the weekend off…"

"Didn't work out," Liz says, looking up as Jo comes into the living room to speak face to face.

"That's a shame," Jo answers, disappointment all over her face as her brow wrinkles. "Liz, is everything ok?"

Her face drops with fear. "Why would you ask that?"

"You seem… off," Jo says, sitting next to Liz on the couch. "Is this still about Stanford?"

A way out! "Yes," Liz answers her. "Still not sure about how I feel… about that."

"It's a lot to think about, I know," Jo says with a hand to Liz's cheek. "But we'll figure it out. And if we love each other then compromise won't be the hardest thing to do."

"I'm the only one compromising," Liz points out, not wanting to move to California and settle down properly.

"I've been compromising with you from the second I met you," Jo reminds with an eyebrow arched. She leans forward and kisses Liz on the lips once. "I'm just asking for the same courtesy. I mean, I'm not even giving you a hard time about Dean."

"What about Dean?" Liz questions, her stomach in knots immediately. What does Jo know?

"Liz, honey, I know your type. Dean's your type," Jo says knowingly. "I'm shocked you haven't fucked him six ways to Sunday by now."

"I wouldn't be able to be friends with him after," Liz mentions, hating this rule. "I would fuck him tomorrow if you'd let me keep in contact with him."

"You know that wouldn't work," Jo says, sure of it.

"What if it could?" Liz challenges right back. "What if I just started to bang him when I'm not around you and stayed friends with him?"

"Your heart is way too big to handle that," Jo shakes her head. "You could never keep that platonic and you know it. You care too much about people."

And Liz knows she's right.

"Just, be careful with him," Jo asks. "And think about California a little more. I know you'd love it out there. And I'm sure you could get a job you'd like there."

"Yeah…" Liz's downtrodden tone answers, depressed by this conversation paired with the weight of her afternoon spent naked with Dean. What a fucking mess.

"You sure you don't want something to eat?" Jo questions one last time before getting up.

"I'm sure."

"Ok," Jo says, kissing her cheek. "I love you."

Liz shares a thin-lipped smile. "Love you too."

When Jo walks away Liz drops a hand over her eyes with sadness. What the fuck is she doing with her life?


	15. Glitter and Ink (Part 6)

**One Month Later **

The buzzer sounds in the apartment Sam shares with his brother and he rolls his eyes as he gets up from the couch, dropping his criminology text book on the coffee table as he does.

"Yeah?" he asks into the intercom despite already knowing who it is. She's been around enough lately for him to know.

"Hey Sam!" Liz answers back and Sam doesn't respond, just unlocks the door for her. Without any enthusiasm he turns the front door knob and leaves it ajar a couple inches. He then heads right back to the couch and flops down as he can hear her boots pounding up the steps.

He can hear her come into the apartment like she lives there. "Hey, dude."

"Hi." Sam keeps all enthusiasm out of his tone and gets right back to his book, studying up for his midterm.

Liz tosses her keys casually onto the kitchen counter and pulls out a rocks glass from the cabinet. "You want a drink?" she calls to Sam.

"No. I'm studying."

Liz makes a face to show she knows the mistake she made in asking and pours herself a hefty glass of Johnny Walker she brought over. She then leaves an empty glass next to the bottle out on the counter for when Dean gets back. She knows he's not home because he would have been the one to answer the door if he was.

Walking into the living room of the very orderly and clean apartment, Liz drops down into the upholstered chair across from Sam. She takes a sip of her drink and eyes the younger man as he reads, recognizing what potential there is in him. Right now he's a little on the scrawny side, his tall frame clearly underused considering his study habits.

"You go to the gym?" Liz questions him, propping her boot-clad feet onto the upholstered ottoman in front of her and lounging back.

"Don't have time," Sam answers her without looking up.

"You should find the time," Liz says to him. "You've got potential, Sammy."

"Don't call me that," he grumbles out.

"Sorry," Liz apologizes instantly. Every time Dean speaks of his brother there's a good chance he says Sammy so it's a learned thing. She forgets sometimes. "I'm just saying, you're a good looking guy. _Very_ good looking. You could be beyond flat out hot if you lifted a little. Girls would throw their panties at you…"

He looks up at her. "If that was an attempt at a compliment… it failed." Sam then looks at her feet. "Boots."

Liz drops her feet onto the carpet and nearly shivers with the frigid attitude. "I didn't mean to insult you," Liz tells him, her voice very apologetic.

"Why are you here?" Sam punches out the question and stares at her hard.

Liz's face wrinkles as her stomach drops. "What do you mean?"

"You have a girlfriend. Why the hell are you still hanging around Dean?"

And there it is. It's the protective brother stuff. Sam never once warmed up to her out of fear of what she could do to his brother. He's well aware that Liz could be the unravelling of Dean. Sam can see it all over him. Dean's in love. Even if he won't admit it, Dean's past liking her or just being her friend.

"I enjoy being around him…"

"But what the hell do you want with him?" Sam keeps going, the anger building. "You keep coming over here, acting like you own the place…."

"That's not my intention," Liz jumps in and denies.

"And then you guys hole up in his room for a few noisy hours before you go back to your wife."

"She's not my wife…"

"You ever gonna leave her?" Sam challenges, voice hard.

"Well, no…"

"Then what's the point?" Sam presses on, finally letting his opinions free. "Dean's… I just don't think any of whatever this is you're doing with him is a good idea anymore."

"Dean's an adult," Liz reminds him. "He can decide for himself how he'll run his life."

"Look, I'm not fucking stupid," Sam tries leveling with her. "I know you two have… _something_ between you. I'm not gonna pretend to know what it is in its own sick and twisted way but I can see it. You guys care about each other."

"Absolutely," Liz smiles slightly, thinking she's getting somewhere better with him.

"That's why you gotta let this go."

Liz stares at Sam with shock once more at his wide open honesty. "You're saying you want me to just… disappear from Dean's life."

"If you actually do care about him, you'll do exactly that," Sam tells her. "Because this will _crush_ Dean if you don't stick with him for good. I've never seen him act the way he does with you. And he's never been this excited to be around a girl or been this faithful in his life. I just…" Sam sighs. "I don't want to see him get his heart broken by some girl that can't figure out if she likes chicks or dicks. He's better than that, he's better than _you_… and I think you know that. Don't string him along. That's not fair and it's seriously selfish."

Awed, Liz sits quietly for a beat when she tries to process everything Sam says to her. How dare he assume so much? How dare he say these things to her? The anger bubbles within her but at the same time she can't figure out if she's mad because Sam's rude or because Sam's right.

When she opens her mouth to answer him the door to the apartment opens and cuts her off.

"Hey!" Dean yells happily into the dwelling, his voice light as he saw Liz's car in the lot out front.

"Hi," Liz answers, her down tone obvious.

"Ah, nice," they hear Dean cheer as he pours himself a glass of whiskey, Liz and Sam eyeing each other as they wait for Dean to join them. Sam's stare is hard and angry, Liz's guilty and unsure.

Dean walks into the living room and looks around, Sam's head buried in his book once more before Dean could catch his death glare sent Liz's way.

"Always studying," Dean comments to mostly himself.

"You're boarding me for good reason," Sam points out, living with Dean to save money since his place is practically on campus and free for Sam.

"Damn straight," Dean agrees as he walks to Liz and bends down to her. "Hey there," he smiles wide and kisses her on the lips hello.

"Hi," she responds quietly when he stands up straight and pulls her hand to help her stand.

"Mm, you look good," he eyes over the black tank and white short-sleeved jacket over it paired with tight blue jeans and her tall black heeled boots.

"Thanks," she forces a smile, feeling pretty low after that conversation with Sam. "Close up late?"

"Yeah," Dean shakes his head. "Had a screamer. I mean, if you're getting a tattoo, aren't you prepared for it to hurt?"

"Should be," she agrees.

"Took double the time it usually takes to do the classic butterfly white-trash tramp stamp. Fucking college girls." Dean takes a gulp of his Johnny Walker to wash it all away before looking at her again. He nods his head towards his room and Liz nods in agreement. He smiles. "Alright Sammy, you keep up the good work. I'll be in my room."

"You mind keeping it down this time?" Sam's cold and irritated tone asks.

"I'll do what I can," Dean smirks and pulls Liz with him down the hall and to his bedroom. Once inside Dean shuts the door. "How you been?"

"Good," Liz quietly answers and kicks her boots off before sitting on his bed, her back against his simple black wood headboard and knees bent up. She takes a sip of whiskey and looks down into the glass.

"What's with the sour puss?" Dean immediately picks up on her mood as he pops on his IPod, putting on The Black Key's album Brothers.

She pauses and looks over at him as he takes a seat next to her. He peers at her, waiting for her to speak.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Whoa," Dean smirks with the surprising statement. "Where's this seriousness coming from?"

Liz shrugs and doesn't mention Sam's words just now. "We've been fucking around for a month now and… I don't know. I don't want you to start feeling too much for me."

Dean gives her a funny look.

"What?" she wonders.

"You know how I feel about you already," Dean tells her. "I haven't lied to you once…"

"But you like me more than you say you do," Liz puts it out there. Sam may have brought it to the surface but she's been well aware of his true emotions when concerning her.

"Oh, you think so?" Dean jokes, thinking she's just being cocky as he leans over her and kisses her slowly once, ready to get going on their night before she has to leave.

Liz places her drink blindly on his night stand and cups his face, pulling him away from her. "Honey, I know you do."

"And how would you know that?" Dean backs away a bit to sit down right in front of her as he takes a big sip of his drink.

"Because I know how I feel," Liz comes clean. "I am well aware that over the past month I have been just… digging myself deeper and deeper with you. I thought I could do this, sleep with you and go home to Jo and be happy but…" She shakes her head. "Sometimes I just, I don't want to leave you. Sometimes I want to be here instead of home and that scares the fuck outta me."

Dean looks at her as that seeps in. "What the hell are you saying to me right now?"

"I'm saying I'm feeling a lot more than I'm allowed to feel for you and it's gonna get me in trouble."

He nods while looking at her, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Thought you said you weren't gonna fall for me."

Liz nudges him with her foot for that one and he laughs a little. "I know what I said… and I said it because I never thought…" She looks over at her whiskey, picks it up quickly and takes a hefty sip, never finishing the statement.

"Ok, so… I can't really tell you what to do here," Dean starts. "And I can't tell you how you feel because I'm not you. What I can do is remind you that I think Jo should know about us."

"She won't be cool with it…"

"And what is she, you're mother? She gonna ground you?" Dean lightens the issue. "If she loves you she'll find a way to make it work just like always."

"Not if she knows how I've been feeling towards you. She'd be heartbroken."

"Well, then… how are you feeling towards me?" Dean challenges her to spill it. "I think I should know if it's that serious."

Lizzy swallows hard, and keeps her eyes on her drink.

"I mean, if anyone deserves to know it's me, right?" he says with a light smile.

"I think I love you," Liz blurts out quickly before she can keep herself from saying it. "Or… I know I do."

Blinking twice, he just stares at her with total surprise.

"I shouldn't have said that," Liz says immediately, covering her eyes with her free hand. "I'm sorry. It's just that… I like who you are, how you treat me, how you look at me, how you are in bed with me… I'm fucking things up and making them so complicated. I've kept this in for weeks now but I do love you, I know it. I've known for a while…"

And her voice is completely cut off by Dean's lips. He leans over her quickly, her honesty putting him into action instantly. He holds the kiss for a good, long moment, feeling her in a way he normally doesn't. They've kept things sex-based, and the sex they both enjoy and have strictly kept to doesn't really lend itself to much more than fun, but this kiss is different than all that. This is the truth of what's been bubbling at the surface for them since the second they met.

When Dean pulls his lips slowly away from hers, his eyes languidly opening to look into her wide brown irises, he smiles calmly to her. This doesn't scare him and as much as it frightens her terribly he wants this moment of truth to be something wonderful for her, not just anxiety-filled.

"I love you too, Liz," Dean lets her know, his hand to the side of her face and staying close.

"Oh God…."

"Don't be so afraid of that."

"I'm a terrible person," she says, her voice cracking as he can see the tears rim her lids, threatening to fall.

"That's not true at all," Dean assures her, putting both their glasses on the night stand and moving to kneel between her bent up legs.

"I've lied to Jo this whole time," she pours out her guilt. "I keep telling her we're friends and I haven't been banging you and she shouldn't worry… and all the while I've been falling in love with someone else. That's so awful. I'm awful for this. I told her I would never change, never leave her…."

"Stop it," Dean says calmly, kissing her cheek, her jaw, before saying into her ear, "I told you I loved you too."

Liz nods as he pulls away. Dean sits onto his mattress in front of her and holds his arms out to her, inviting her in. She easily climbs onto his lap, her legs around his waist and arms circling his neck as she hugs him tight, looking for comfort and confidence in this new development. He holds her right there, tightly and with a new kind of care and openness that they've yet to show the other.

"Liz, I'm in love with you. That has to mean something to you," Dean says to her as he hugs her, feeling her hands weave into his short hair. "I mean, it's not every day that you tell someone you love them for the first time and they say it back and mean it. Hell, I've never said that to _anyone_ before now…"

"Never?" Liz asks, pulling away enough to look at him seriously and with surprise.

"No," he admits. "I've never felt this way about a girl before and I wasn't gonna lie to some poor chick."

Her face softening to a place he's not seen before, Liz's hands trace his face over as everything hits her. He loves her. She's isn't alone on this and she's been feeling this way for a reason.

"Can't you just enjoy this for now?" Dean asks of her, his expression pleading for her acceptance. He's been so patient and understanding of everything that she is, as pain in the ass as she may be, and he deserves the first time he tells someone he loves them to be beautiful, not laden with misery and fear. "The mess that this creates… we'll figure it all out tomorrow. But, for now, for _right now_…" Dean starts, a hand to the back of her head as he pulls her in closer, eyeing her lips. "Can't you forget everything else and be mine? Just mine for tonight? Everything else… fuck it?"

"Yeah," Liz nods as she gets closer. "I want that." She leans into him hard and kisses him again, her lips on him and moving so in sync with his that it proves to him how much she does want that.

She might speak of fright and worry but when she moves with him, when he gets her tangled up in his sheets, her body pressing against his… he can see the real her. Liz is a loving person despite the hard exterior she likes to keep. Maybe that's just her problem, Dean has thought to himself several times before now. Her capacity to love is so vast that falling for two people is easy for her, whether she asked for it or not.

"This is all I ever want," Dean starts to speak, the honesty suddenly spilling as he opens her jacket and pulls it down her arms. "You're all I ever think about when I'm not with you," he continues to confess his thoughts with an ease he's never once found before now. He pulls her shirt smoothly over her head. "And I'm not just talking about your body or what we do together." He kisses her again while snaking his arms smoothly behind her and quickly unhooking her black bra.

"Well, all_ I_ ever think about is a naked you," Liz smirks a little before kissing him again, getting playful as her mind shifts to the more lustful and the less doomed.

Dean moves on, his lips trailing kisses from her mouth, down her chin, and around to the side of her neck. He licks the spot just below her ear, making her grind down on him with need. "Well, I think about you naked too but… I also think about your laugh and how beautiful it is." He kisses her neck a little lower. "Or your smell."

"I smell?" Liz asks, hoping for a joking tone but instead finding only a lust-consumed one as his teeth lightly drag across her shoulder while he lowers the strap of her bra.

"Like vanilla," Dean tells her, his mouth against her skin as he does. He drags his tongue across her chest as he slides the second strap of her bra down, pulling the clothing off of her completely. "And fire. And something… deep."

Closing her eyes, she shuts down the part of her brain screaming Jo's name to her. As sweet, loving, and truly good as Jo has been to her… Jo's never said anything like what Dean's saying to her now. It's beautiful, what he says, breaking her down and seeing all the good that she can be. Jo's told her she's a good person, sure… but not like this.

"And I think about your eyes," Dean keeps going, ignoring the fact that she's topless in front of him to stare at her bright brown orbs. "How you look at me… you told me weeks ago that you love me just by the way you look at me. I already knew."

"Shit," Liz smiles and tries not to cry. "When the fuck did you get so sweet?"

Dean huffs a laugh, combing his hands through her hair as he looks her over closely. "When I had a reason to be."

It takes all of a split second after hearing that to yank Dean by the jaw into herself, kissing him with more need than she's ever felt in her life. Her lips move quickly, furiously, wanting all of him for herself. The rest of her life disappears for good in that moment. All that's left is the room they're in, Dean, and her.

And for one perfect moment she lets herself go, enjoying what it is she's found in this perfect person. Dean understands her, accepts all that she is, and would do anything at all just to be with her. If that isn't true love then nothing is.

Liz pulls her lips away for a moment, clutching Dean's face and staring at him, mustering the courage to truly let everything else go. "I love you. Dean, I swear… I love you."

With a smile Dean leans into her, getting her on her back and covering her completely with himself, intent on showing without words just how much he loves her too. This isn't the usual ass smacking, tied up limbs, dirty talking affair they've been having. He moves slowly, with love in his hands and adoration in his lips, and makes Liz feel like no one else has. That's all he has left if he wants to make sure she'll stay with him.

And he _needs_ her to stay with him.

* * *

Stirring in her sleep Liz rolls over onto her opposite side. She sighs contentedly, her hazy mind still at peace after a wonderful night's sleep, the best one she can remember getting in a long time. It was worry free and just so serene that it was damn near perfect.

And it all comes crashing down when she hears the voice that greets her.

"Mornin'."

Her eyes fly open sharply, her sights immediately focused on the face looking back at her. With his cheek pressed to the adjoining pillow, Dean's smiling wide at her, his own relaxed expression meaning to be a welcoming sight to her. It isn't.

"Dean!?" she nearly shouts with shock. "Shit!"

She sits up tall and looks around. She's still in his room and the night before comes flashing back to her. She met him like any other night but Sam ruined her mood and made her feel terrible about her affair with Dean. She then attempted to possibly break it off with him out of fear of hurting him but instead ended up confessing her love for him… which he returned. They then spent the next three hours in bed nonstop touching, kissing, and generally worshipping each other through the haze of sheer love that they came to find together. And they drank, as per usual. The drink and sex must have worn her out because here she is, naked in Dean's bed at eight in the morning.

And she never called Jo.

"Fuck!" Liz near shouts at her stupidity as she jumps out of bed quickly, her frantic eyes searching the room for her clothing as her heart pounds with worry.

"Uh, ok… so it's _not_ a good morning," Dean partially jokes with sadness, pulling the blankets off his legs to stand up and help her.

"I never called her," Liz rambles, picking up a shirt and a pair of jeans. "She's probably freaking the fuck out by now. I can't believe I did that…"

"Calm down," Dean says to her with an even tone and she whips her head up to him with anger.

"_Calm down_!?" Liz asks with disbelief. "I stayed the whole fucking night! Dean, I have a girlfriend! I never told her where I was…" She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "I didn't want to make her worry. She's got to be so scared…"

"Hey, look at me," Dean says, his voice still relaxed for her benefit. He puts his hands on her shoulders and makes her look at him. "It'll be ok."

"No it won't…"

"If she loves you she can get past this," Dean tries again. "And it was a mistake. People make mistakes. It's ok."

"I let her down… in _so_ many ways…" Liz looks about ready to cry and he can't handle that.

Dean pulls her chin up and kisses her softly, reminding her that it was worth it in a way that she stayed with him. "We had a good night. Take a second and remember that. And calm down."

Liz exhales hard and nods, knowing he's right. She needs to reel it back. "I need to get home. Before Jo leaves for her first class. I need to come clean."

"I agree," Dean says, his hand cupping the side of her face as his thumb strokes her cheek soothingly. "But you know I've wanted you to tell her the truth from the jump."

"Please don't say I told you so."

"I won't," he promises and kisses her quickly once more. "Do you think it'd help if I was there with you?"

"What!?" Liz asks with shock.

"We could talk to her together," Dean explains his thought. "Help her see that we aren't kidding about this. And… I can share. If I have to, Liz… I'd easily make this work if that's what I have to do."

He's either lost his mind or he's the most wonderful man on the planet, she thinks. Probably both.

"I'll come with you if you want. I would never leave you high and dry to deal with this alone, not when I'm a big part of this."

"You're fucking crazy," Liz's choked voice lets him know.

"Maybe," Dean smiles and shrugs.

"No," Liz denies. "I need to tell her on my own. I made the decisions here, I'm the one that lied. I need to do this."

"Ok," Dean gives in. "But you just say the word and I'm there."

"Uh, you are way too sweet to like me," Liz groans, knowing he's too good, better than her.

"Shut up and get the fuck outta my apartment," Dean jokes to go against what she says and pulls her into a serious kiss, his mouth reminding her that he does fully, completely love her.

With another fearful sigh Liz rushes to get dressed, pulling on her clothes so fast she's not sure they're all on correctly. Her anxiety is sitting like a rock in her gut, getting worse as the seconds tick by. She grab her boots, yanks them on, slings her bag over her shoulder and heads for the main door.

"It'll be ok," Dean reminds her, stopping her briefly at the doorway with her hand on the doorknob. "Just be honest."

"I'm fucking scared as shit but I will," Liz promises him as he leans down and kisses her goodbye as she opens the door to leave.

Once the kiss is finished she turns to go but there's a woman in the doorway blocking her, her hand raise in a fist to knock on the door.

"Jo!" Liz shouts with shock when she sees her girlfriend standing there, eyes wide on her and Dean after catching the tail end of the kiss they just shared.

It's silent for a moment as everyone involved processes what's happening right then.

"You never came home," Jo explains, the bags under her eyes deep and set with lack of sleep.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Liz immediately responds with a slight begging tone in her voice.

"I called so many times."

"I fell asleep…"

"I didn't know what happened to you," Jo says, the anger and utter let down obvious as her eyes water over. "I thought… oh God." She closes her eyes, tears spilling with relief that her girlfriend is safe and alive but so devastated by where she's been all along.

"Jo-Jo, I am _so_ sorry," Liz reaches out to grab her hand and Jo flinches away. "I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"What are you doing here?" she asks, eyeing Dean over and seeing him in just his sweatpants and nothing else.

"I… I, um…" Liz's voice falters with no good explanation that she can come up with. She gives in. "Jo, you know what I'm doing here."

Jo nods, a fresh set of tears falling. "I just came by thinking… maybe you were here and maybe my paranoia was right."

"I'm so sorry," Liz repeats, stepping towards her as Jo steps back. "I was gonna tell you today."

"How long?"

"It doesn't matter…"

"_How long_?" Jo asks again, demanding an answer.

When Liz doesn't answer Dean jumps in to help. "A month. And we never intended to hurt you…"

"Don't talk to me," Jo warns him without much gusto behind her words. She then looks back to Liz. "I'm going to work."

"We need to talk about this…"

Jo walks away from her, her keys in her hand.

"Jo!" Liz tries again but her girlfriend never turns around. She just keeps walking, ignoring her voice. Liz drops her purse in the doorway and looks to Dean quickly. "Stay here."

She then sprints down the hallway to the elevators, finding Jo standing there with arms crossed as she silently cries while waiting for the elevator.

"Jo-Jo, please talk to me," Liz nearly begs as she runs to stand next to her. "Don't just run away."

"You lied," Jo shakes her head as she can't get past this. "You've never done that before. Why would you lie now?"

"Because you wouldn't accept him," Liz explains. "I've tried to talk to you about this…"

"We have rules for a reason."

"And things change."

"What's changed?" Jo asks her, turning sharply to look right at her. "Huh? What, Liz? Besides you lying to me?"

The elevator dings and the doors slide open.

"I have to get to my lectures," Jo says quietly and gets into the elevator.

"Please don't leave like this," Liz asks of her.

"I'm the responsible one. You've always said that. So I'm gonna go to work and you can clean yourself up a little after spending the night in someone else's bed."

"I love you," Liz reminds her girl but gets a sour and hurt look in return.

"Do you?"

"Of course I do," Liz answers, scared that Jo might think she doesn't.

"Hell of a way to show it," Jo responds, her disappointment and fears clear as day.

"I do. And I'll see you at home," Liz says with hope, looking to talk things through now that she's horrified of losing her girlfriend.

Jo doesn't say a word, just shares one of the saddest looks Liz's ever seen from her as the doors slide shut, leaving Liz alone in the hallway.

* * *

**Author's Note:** **Sorry for this interruption. Here's the deal. I don't think this story is going over super well. I've had several people mention that it's just not their cup of tea and that they miss the usual Dean and Lizzy story with all characters equally involved. I understand this but I also don't want to alienate any readers. I've worked so hard to build a following and I am not willing to lose it now. And yes, I know a lot of you are with me on this story and really liking it. So here's what I'm doing. For now I will do my best to plow through publishing this. I'm talking 2-3 chapters a week guaranteed. And (SPOILER ALERT) there are more realities left to go. The last one I think most will like if they give it a go as it takes place in the SPN universe except that it's just... different. So, hang in there if you are not down for this one. I don't have a next story ready for all of you. I don't even have a good directions for it or a monster or ANYTHING. I have to sure up the ending to this one first because I truly do adore this story. I love it, actually. Thanks for reading and thanks for hanging tough with me. I'll do what I can to get through this story and move on. And yes, everyone should read the ending since it will have some serious story line information. Thanks, everyone!**


	16. Glitter and Ink (Part 7)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile. This one is a very long chapter over on AO3.**

* * *

As the doors slide open in the elevator, indicating that she's reached the floor her apartment is on, Jo sighs heavily. This is the first time since she and Liz moved in together that she's been nervous about coming home at night.

All day, through her three lectures and her office hours, all she could think about is where the hell this leaves her within her relationship. Liz is far too capable of feeling strong emotions for people. On their first date Liz told her she loved her. The woman has an insane ability to care… which used to comfort her.

Now it scares the life out of her.

She walks down the hallway taking deep, slow breaths. She turns the key in the doorknob and opens it up while being as prepared as she'll ever be to talk things out.

"Liz?" Jo calls out into their decent sized apartment as she drops her keys in the decorative bowl by the door and places her briefcase on the floor.

"In here," she hears her obviously frightened girlfriend answer from the living. Jo walks towards her and rounds the corner, stopping instantly when she looks over to the couch.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," she angrily says, hands on her hips with disbelief to see Dean sitting there with her, both with a glass of whiskey in hand and a serious face trained on her.

"I'm not here to cause more trouble," Dean immediately tries to lessen the situation. He knew she'd be beyond pissed to see him there.

"Considering how much you've already caused I'd hope not," Jo fires right back out.

"This isn't Dean's fault," Liz cuts in, trying the keep Jo's fire away from the man that's nearly innocent in all this.

"Don't stick up for your boyfriend," Jo spits back.

"He's not my… Damn it, Jo-Jo. Could you just sit down for a minute?" Liz pleads with her.  
"Please?"

Staring her down, making sure Liz knows how fucking angry she is, Jo sits across from them in the loveseat.

"Please at least tell me you've never been in our apartment until now?" Jo asks of Dean, her morbid curiosity running.

"Never," he honestly tells her. "I would never do that."

"Jo, I wanted to talk to you about this for a while now but I was really scared," Liz explains. "And I know how much of a chicken shit that makes me. I just never once wanted to hurt you…"

"Good job on that one." Jo glares at her girlfriend with fire in her eyes.

"And I'm so sorry. I really am and I was wrong to keep this from you in the first place but Dean has said from day one that I needed to tell you. He was the one trying to get me to be honest because he didn't like sneaking around. He didn't want to lie to you."

"Stop trying to get me to like the guy you're cheating on me with," Jo responds sharply.

"Ok, that's fair," Liz nods. "But I wanted it to be clear that every dumbass decision made in this situation falls solely on me.

"Again."

"Yes, we both know that if someone is gonna fuck up, it's me." Her voice is pathetically sad at this.

Jo looks at her with sheer pain in her eyes. "Liz, I love you…"

"And I love you too, so much," Liz pleads desperately. "I need you to see that. I love you and I'm not trying to change that."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" Jo has to know. "What's the point of all this. Our system was working. I could deal with the random one nighters if it kept you happy… but this? This isn't the same. This is clearly emotional and _that_ is where you're cheating on me."

"You're right," Liz confirms, aware that her emotional tie to Dean is what's the most disconcerting for Jo.

"Fuck, I knew it," Jo scolds herself. "I could tell from the jump that this guy was bad news for us but I let it go and I trusted you anyways."

"Liz tried," Dean jumps in. "She tried to keep it strictly platonic. I know how hard it was for her to do that but she did it out of respect for you."

"Well then, I should be downright fucking honored, shouldn't I?" Jo bites caustically back.

"Jo, no…" Dean tried to respond but sighs with difficulty. "Liz and I… we have a connection, we do. And we don't want to lie about that anymore, especially not to you."

"Yeah, because you got caught…"

"No," Liz denies. "I don't want to lie because I don't… want it to end."

It feels like someone just socked Jo in the gut with Liz' words. "What don't you want to end?"

"My relationship with you… or Dean. I want both," Liz comes completely clean. "At this point I think I _need_ both."

All Jo can think is how could she ask this of her?

"You selfish, _selfish_ bitch," she tells Liz when it all becomes clearer. "I'm not enough for you? You need to have a whole other relationship in order to be happy? What the hell, Liz!?"

"I don't want to need this!" Liz finally starts to fight back and elevates her voice. "Jo-Jo, you know I don't like being this way! But it's who I am. I love you. I love you so much it hurts… but I love Dean too…"

"_Love_!?" She stands up out of her seat with audacious shock. "You _love_ him!?"

Liz glances to her side at Dean, the idea of her love for him still being new. "Yeah. I'm done lying. I love him."

"And I love Liz," Dean says to Jo quickly. "It's a two-way street. I love her and I care about her a lot. I want her to be happy."

"You think I don't?" Jo challenges.

"We know you want me to be happy," Liz says calmly, warmly, like she's trying to lower the anxiety in the room. "Dean just understands what I need and he's willing to work within my lifestyle."

"Well aren't you just the white knight," Jo says to him with annoyance as Liz walks to her, standing in front of her. "You're telling me you're cool with Liz being with me _and_ you?"

"If that's what she wants," Dean shrugs. "I know that's the only way I could have any of her so I'll take it."

"And what happens when she gets sick of just the two of us, huh?" Jo fights. "What happens when she moves onto a third? You gonna stick around then too?"

"I won't be finding a third person," Liz smiles affectionately at her girlfriend and places her hands on the shorter woman's shoulders.

"You said you'd never find a second," Jo argues. "You told me it'd be just us…"

"I have everything I need in this room," Liz assures her. "I won't be going out to find new people anymore. I don't need to. If I have you and I have Dean then… what more could I want?"

"You _lied_," Jo says, her voice now wavering with pain and betrayal. "You don't do that, not to me. We don't lie to each other."

"And I'm done with doing that," Liz promises, cupping Jo's face to make sure she hears her. "Baby, I'm done lying and sneaking around. I know what I want."

"And I know what_ I_ want," Jo stands her ground. "I want you… _just you_."

"But Dean is a good man," Liz rebuts. "A very good one. He treats me so well, just like you do. You'd never have to worry about me out there on my own. You can trust him. I want you to trust him and get to know him."

"What about our family?" Jo's eye water over. "What about us and kids and quiet and… what about all that?"

"Jo-Jo, we can't have kids together," Liz reminds her. "We'd have to get some random donor…"

"So what?"

"So… Dean could help us with that," Liz floats the idea. "We know him, or we will. I know him well already. He's a good person and he could help us make a beautiful family."

"I don't want…"

"Don't say no just yet," Liz pleads, asking her to consider other possibilities for them. "Think about it for a little bit before you refuse this. That's all I ask. I _know_ this could work."

Jo just closes her eyes, a single tear running down her right cheek.

"I'm not into men, Liz," Jo reminds her.

"And I'm not asking you to be," Liz sweetly says, kissing her cheek. "I'm asking you to be open to this, to see the positives. I'm asking you to see that I don't love you any less because I found Dean. I have room for both of you. I want you to see how this could be good for us. No more running around with strangers. No more random nights wondering when I would come home. You'll always know where I am if I'm not right here. I'll be safe."

At least that idea sounded good to her. Liz may be self-defense trained but Jo always worries about her girlfriend out there alone with strange men in strange places while she gets what she needs.

"I want you to see it," Liz tries again. "I want you to see how good a person Dean is, how much this could be actually good for us."

Liz pulls Jo in close and kisses her sweetly, reminding her just how much she does in fact still love her.

"Give us a chance?" Liz asks, her face soft and needy, something Jo hasn't seen from her in so long.

"What if I'm not happy this way?" Jo questions, nervous about how this will be for her.

"Then we'll figure it out," Liz grins. "Give it a few days, maybe a week. The second you think this isn't right then talk to me. We'll go from there."

She hates that it's happening but Jo can feel her resolve to stay strong and refuse Liz this insane suggestion waver. She can't lose her. Jo can't lose Liz.

"Just a chance," Liz tries again. "That's all I want."

In the moment Jo gets caught up. Her girl is begging for her to try again, to give her a try at this insane idea, and she does something she truly isn't proud of.

Jo reaches up quickly and pulls Liz down to her, kissing her hard. Her head is a mess. It's beyond a mess. And she's scared. She's scared and desperate to not see everything she's wanted disappear completely. She loves Liz and that is fact. And she just doesn't want her to go.

"You really still love me?" Jo asks, her desperate and pathetic side showing when she's been put to the test by her most loved and trusted person.

"I absolutely still love you," Liz says, her mouth once more pressed to Jo's with certainty and need. "I told you… I could never stop how much I love you. This isn't about cutting you out of my life. It's about adding more love _into_ my life."

"I just wish I was enough for you," Jo admits her biggest problem with this situation as she looks down at the floor. "You're more than enough for me. I want you to feel that same way about me."

If one were to listen closely enough, Liz's heart ripping in two right then is audible.

"No," Liz hugs her in, her arms tightly around the smaller woman. "No, no, Jo-Jo. You're thinking all wrong about this. You make me so happy. I never wanted to do this to you. I wasn't looking for anything more. I didn't need more than you until I met Dean. It just happened. That doesn't mean I need you any less or that you fulfill my life any less. You are still my girl, Jo. You'll always be my girl."

Liz then kisses her again, her arms pulling Jo in as she keeps her close, relieved to see that Jo might actually listen and give this a go. She just wants the chance to prove that this could be successful, even if her lying didn't earn her this trust or opportunity.

"I will never leave you," Liz promises from the very bottom of her heart before wrapping Jo up in her arms, a hand in her blond hair, and kisses her with all she feels for the woman.

And Dean finally starts to relax a bit through this whole nerve-racking day. All he could do was worry about Jo all day. The poor woman didn't do anything to deserve what happened to her or the dishonesty she had to discover in the worst way possible. He couldn't have felt worse for Jo in this.

But now that Liz talked to her, was truly honest and open about everything, he feels a lot better. This is what's right. He wanted full disclosure from the get and now has it. And Jo is at least going to try and accept him and Dean couldn't be happier for that, even if he knows how hard a road it'll be.

He also couldn't be happier for the view right now. Of course, in his head he's pictured Liz with another woman quite often. He knew she was sexually attracted to women nearly from the jump and since he found out about her love of women he's been curious. She's just so beautiful and insanely sexy that her with another gorgeous woman would have to be just a sight of pure perfection.

And it is.

Sitting back into the couch a bit and keeping quiet, Dean just observes the two women in front of him. Either they forgot about him and he's not comfortable interrupting or they don't generally mind his presence and he's not dumb enough to interrupt.

And he couldn't be happier that this seems to have worked out for Liz. He clearly has her happiness listed as number one in his book and Jo clearly makes Liz happy. _Very_ clearly.

And Jo herself forgets that Dean's even in the room at first. Liz could always make her forget everything else around her. When they were together the world didn't matter. She's always just too comfortable and assured when physically with Liz, another reason she never wants to see this relationship go.

"Love you so much, Jo-Jo," Liz's voice says quietly to just her girl as she continues to kiss her, hoping her mouth can at least ease some of the pain of the day for Jo. In fact, she owes the woman a whole lot more than just a little make out session and luckily for Liz she has the skills to get Jo to forget most arguments they've ever been in. Most of the time when they fight it's Liz's fault and in the end she always feels the need to apologize with her naked body and her God-given talents in bed.

She thinks Jo needs a reminder as to why she shouldn't give up on her.

But then she remembers Dean on the couch and her mind goes to some very different and interesting places.

While never pulling her lips away from Jo, Liz reaches an arm out to the side of her, aimed at Dean and where she knows he's sitting. He takes the gesture as he should have, an invitation. Slowly, knowing how against the idea of the three of them together Jo has been, he gets up and makes his way over to Liz. He takes her hand the second he reaches her and goes with the flow, not sure what's happening here.

With one hand woven into the bright blond hair of the woman she loves and the other grasping tightly to the hand of the man she loves Liz finds that she's happy. She's totally, truly happy. No missing piece, no need to look elsewhere… Liz is happy.

"Thank you," Liz smiles warmly at Jo when she pulls away from the kiss. "I have never deserved you, Jo. I don't know why you keep trying but I can't tell you how lucky I am."

Jo just smiles slightly, happy to hear that Liz understands how hard this is for her. She's appreciated for what she's trying to do here. Out of her comfort zone, sure… but Jo's not out of her relationship. She won't let go that easily. They may bicker and disagree about the future but that's only because they both want to be in each other's future so badly. This is love. Jo won't turn her back on love.

Liz then turns to her side to look up at Dean, her grin growing wider when they lock eyes. "And thank you for accepting me for the fucked up mess that I am. I don't deserve you either, Dean. I don't."

"You should know I'm not exactly perfect myself so… I think you're fine," Dean smiles reluctantly, hating the way she speak of herself. "And stop saying you're fucked up, huh?"

"I am…"

"You're not," Dean assures her, Jo listening closely to how he speaks to her. "You're really not. You're just… really loving. You're beautiful, Liz, and I'm not talking about the outside here."

"You don't think my outside is beautiful?" she playfully asks, defaulting to the fun and easy way they have with each other despite the heavy conversation around them.

Dean throws her a knowing look. "Don't go fishing for compliments like that. Makes you ugly."

"You're an ass," she smiles wide and laughs before letting his hand go to bring it behind his neck. She pulls him down to her height and kisses him honestly and with sheer affection.

And even Jo isn't fully upset in the moment. Yes, her jealously isn't gone. She can feel that pang of envy deep in her when they kiss like this right in front of her but somehow it's also making a part of her feel relief. She always knew Liz is doing exactly this when she isn't around. She's with men. And Dean… she'll never admit it aloud but he did just impress her a bit. He clearly does care a whole lot about Liz and if Jo has to trust another with the woman she's fully in love with then maybe she can trust him after all. He watched over her when she got hammered and brought her straight home, no advantage taken. He also wanted Liz to be honest from the start. She's sadly starting to see Dean in a better light when she'd love nothing more than for him to be a jackass that couldn't compare to her.

"This was the right thing to do," Dean reminds her as she pulls away from him.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right and I'm wrong…" Liz rolls her eyes.

"Eh, I still love you anyways," Dean smirks. "It's ok."

The enormous smile on Liz's face gives her away. "I love you too." She then looks to Jo as she once more grabs Dean's hand. "And I love you so much." She just stands there for a moment, feeling just too happy.

Jo pushes a smile onto her face, the kind of smile that gives her away. She's still very nervous.

"He's a good man," Liz repeats. "Stop being so worried. He's good for me and for us, you'll see."

"I really hope you're right," Jo nearly whispers with her fears.

"Baby, I'm always right," Liz grins and leans forward into her girl, kissing her yet again. Seeing this vulnerable side of her larger than life, always strong girlfriend is having an odd effect on her. She's usually the weaker of the two. Jo is all strength and to see her like this… Liz just wants to show how nothing has changed in her feelings for her. "Come on."

"Liz… I don't…"

"Jo-Jo, stop," Liz tries again and takes her hand without letting go of Dean's. "Let me take care of _you_ for once. Shut your brain off."

Jo doesn't know if she remembers how and, after glancing at Dean standing to the other side of Liz, she stays nervous.

"Nothing you don't want is gonna happen here," Liz promises, kissing her lips quickly. "You trust me?"

"Always."

Liz smiles wide at her and steps right up against her, kissing her again with her free arm around her neck. Her tongue plays against Jo's quickly, lovingly, and Jo melts a little. Her hands come around to Liz's back and she starts to forget again just where she is and who she's with.

"I love you, baby," Liz says, her lips still brushing Jo's. "Shut everything else off. Me and you. Come on."

With a sweet grin, Liz takes Jo's hand once more and starts walking. She heads down the hallway to their large, open bedroom. The second she gets there she lets go of Dean's hand and clutches Jo's jaw. She nearly devours her lips with her own, kissing her with everything she has in her. Jo's trust in her has been the biggest turn on she's gotten from her girlfriend in so long. Whenever Jo could prove how much she loved Liz is when Liz lost her mind and needed Jo all the more.

And once more Dean says nothing. He knows better than to go against what Liz is up to here. Yes, he's a take charge guy when it comes to the bedroom. Yes, he never once has taken any direction from a woman since he was very young and didn't know exactly what it was he liked in bed. Yes, he likes it rough. But this feels different and this isn't all about him. Liz told him Jo isn't like that. She doesn't like the whole hair pulling, rough fucking thing. And right now he has no idea what Liz even wants from him. If he's only about to get a show then so be it, he can deal with that. If he's about to get more then fuck it, life is beautiful.

Without stopping, Liz reaches a hand out behind her once more, pointing to the upholstered chair and ottoman in the corner of the room.

A show it is.

Dean takes a seat, propping his feet up on the ottoman and settling in as Liz walks backwards towards their bed, pulling Jo along with her. She seamlessly gets onto it, lying down on her back as she grabs onto Jo's black blazer and brings her with.

And Jo sighs as she settles over her girl. My God, what is it about this woman that has always made her so damn turned on? Besides the obvious looks that scream of sensual lust and sheer sexual talent, Liz possesses an innate ability to make Jo completely wrapped up in her. Jo never once before Liz came into her life was able to completely let go when with someone intimately. Liz makes everything ok, everything perfect and what it should be.

She was even able to ditch the thought that another man is in the room with them. He's not near her or touching her but he's there, his eyes on them. But Liz keeps her comfortable, reminding her that this is about them, the two of them. That's the base of all of this, how this all started. Liz and Jo.

With her hand tangled in Jo's hair, Liz moans shamelessly. "Jo," she says her girl's name with complete reverence and want.

As Jo settles between Liz's legs, her hips pressing into Liz's, Jo lowers her entire body onto her. That warmth of Liz's form, the comfort and love that sensation gives her, she needed that right now. And as Liz bucks her hips up into Jo once, slowly yet with sheer need, Jo knows they'll be ok. This is still here. They both are burning for the other, Liz still desperate for Jo.

"Mm," Jo sighs when Liz's hands skim along the top of her pants, feeling her skin on her fingertips and making Jo shiver.

"I love you so much," Liz reminds her girl as she runs her hands up Jo's back under her shirt and starts to kiss her neck. "I need you."

Jo's eyes close with the sensation. "Please don't leave me."

And Liz stops. She lays back with her head on the pillow under her and looks up at Jo with a wrinkled and upset expression. "I'm not leaving. Never. _Never_, Jo."

With that promise, Jo lets go. She leans down and attacks. Her lips move with Liz's at a renewed and serious pace. She grinds her hips into Liz's and shows her how damn much she needs her right now.

And Liz definitely gets the message.

She rolls them over quickly, not letting Jo have any choice. She lets her lips prove how much she still needs her girl, the kisses hard and bruising as they both snap. They need this. They need that connection that brought them together in the first place and made Liz realize from day one that she loved this woman.

And still Dean sits quietly, observing and coming to realize why it was that Liz kept him there. She wasn't exactly looking for her ultimate fantasy of a threesome with him and Jo. She just wanted to show him that she and Jo were as meant for each other as she and Dean were. He can see it in the way Liz moves against Jo, in the way she sits up and pulls Jo into her until she's straddling her lap, in the way Liz looks at the blond woman with sheer want and true affection. She looks at him the same damn way. There is no one person more worthy or more loved than the other. He and Jo have become equals and he feels more than honored to hold that spot.

Liz grabs ahold of Jo's blazer and pushes it over her shoulders and down her arms, freeing her from the extra layer and leaving her in the silky white, sleeveless top she had on underneath.

"I want you," Liz tells her girl, her lips once more kissing her neck as she works open the buttons running down the front of Jo's shirt. "I will always want you." She runs her tongue around the shell of Jo's ear, making the woman shudder with the favorite move of hers before Liz whispers for just her, "You turn me on so much it makes me hurt."

Jo closes her eyes, her hips already moving forward and back on top of Liz's lap as she's growing more desperate by the second.

"You really think I could ever live without this?" Lizzy asks in her low, hushed and supremely sexy tone as she peels back the white shirt, exposing her bra covered breasts. "God, Jo… you're so beautiful."

Liz tosses the shirt off the bed and brings her face to Jo's chest, peppering her skin with light, honest kisses while unhooking her stark white bra.

"Baby, I can't live without you," Liz tells her with every ounce of sincerity in her soul. "I can't live without this, without us. You have to know that."

Jo nods her head slightly before kissing Liz again, believing every word she says. Grabbing the bottom of the black, long-sleeved shirt Liz is wearing Jo pulls it up over her head. Jo then reaches over the edge of the bed to toss it away and when she does she catches the sight of Dean in their bedroom chair that she always loves to read in during the early mornings that Liz would sleep in. She forgot he was there for a moment and she involuntarily tenses up when she sees him.

"Jo-Jo?" Liz asks when she feels the discomfort suddenly and when she sees that Jo is looking at Dean with a questionable face she thinks this might have been a very bad idea. "Oh. Jo, we don't have to do this. Dean can leave."

"I'm… yeah, I'm gone," Dean says awkwardly as he starts to get up from the chair, completely understanding Jo's issue. She's not into guys and voyeurism isn't something everyone is into. It makes sense to him. "Liz, I'll call you…"

"Wait," Jo says with her eyes closed, her body pressed against Liz to hide her bare chest. She knows she'll regret this as she stops him. "Hold on."

"Jo, it's fine…"

"Dean, shut up," Jo says softly and looks to Liz. "Why did you want him here?"

Liz looks at her with confusion. "I'm always gonna want him here…." she says with obviousness.

"No, no… why right now? While we're like this?" Jo wonders as she hugs Liz in tight. "You purposefully brought him in here and I know you wouldn't do this without a reason. I know you too well."

"Yeah, you do… don't you?" Liz says with a sweet smile, tucking some of Jo's blond hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"Of course," Jo confirms and waits for an answer.

"I wanted him to understand," Liz starts, looking solely at Jo. "I wanted him to see that you… I'm never going to be without you. You are my one and only girl. And I'm much better with actions than words. I think you know that." The playful glint in her eye with that comment makes Jo smile slightly. "And I want you to trust him completely. And yes, I know that's asking a lot right off the bat but… you can trust Dean. You can."

Jo thinks for a second, looking right at Liz's dark brown eyes in the dimly lit room.

"I want to show you that Dean will not interfere with our relationship," Liz continues, kissing Jo's jaw. "He won't come between us and he'll only make everything better." Liz kisses her lips once. "Can I prove that to you?"

Jo clenches her jaw quickly, swallowing down her kneejerk reaction of saying no way. She wants her and Liz to work, she really does, and for them to work Liz needs Dean apparently.

Against her better judgment and pushing aside all negative reactions, Jo nods her head and gives the green light.

"Thank you," Liz says, pressing her lips to Jo's immediately with gratitude. Her hands fly right to the front of Jo's pants. "Thank you, baby."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"My life… is complete…." Liz finally says after minutes of nothing. Her body laying completely on top of Jo's, she lifts her head and smiles at her girl. "I can die happy now."

"Please don't anytime soon," Jo laughs a little and cranes her neck up for a kiss. Their lips meet softly, the embrace filled with a whole lot less urgency and lust this time. It's pure comfort.

Liz doesn't even notice that Dean's gotten out of their bed until she feels the mattress moving behind her when he sits back onto it. She can then feel the sheets being placed over her and Jo and when she turns her head back to look at him he's smiling wide at them both as he covers them up.

Even in this moment, sated and overjoyed that his fantasy spank-bank is possibly full for life, Dean still thinks of Liz first… or really Jo first. He knows how uncomfortable this might be now that it's over for the woman so he gets her naked form hidden away quickly to help ease the awkwardness.

"My God, I love you," Liz smirks at him as she climbs out of the sheets to crawl to him. She grabs his face and kisses him hard, letting him know how much she appreciated him in the moment.

"Love you… too," he says between kisses, knowing just how true it is. He does love this woman. He's nuts over her.

Liz sits back for a moment and looks over her two loves. Dean, sitting casually and buck naked without shame, and Jo, her hair a wild mess as she holds the blankets over her chest.

"I'm the luckiest fucking girl alive," she smiles wide.

* * *

The weekend is what Jo lives for. There's something wonderfully serene about waking up slowly to a lazy morning of nothing. Sometimes she gets up, grabs her current book that she's reading for her own personal pleasure, sits in the overstuffed, upholstered chair in their bedroom, and reads as Liz sleeps in, looking at her resting now and then with true fondness. Or other times, if she hasn't drank too much or wasn't working too late, Liz will beat her to it and wake her up with just her mouth and hands only.

And today feels no different. It's Saturday morning and the sun is up. The comforter is fluffy and warm all around her and she has a comforting arm draped across her stomach. She's feeling surprisingly rested and as she rolls onto her back to look at her girl she's thinking a lovely, slow, and pleasurable beginning to her day would be quite lovely.

Jo gets a look at Liz's serene and still sleeping face as she lays on her side and she sighs with ease and contentedness. Whenever Liz looked this at peace it was easy to find the exceptional beauty she holds. Liz is a beautiful woman naturally. She may paint up her face with red lips and cat-eye liquid liner every day but when she's without makeup is when Jo couldn't stop looking at her. She's just naturally stunning, something Jo's always been in awe of.

Leaning in close, Jo brings her arm across herself to gently place on Liz's cheek. She strokes her smooth skin with her thumb and Liz inhales, her lips curling into a knowing smile. Her eyes move under her eyelids as she says, "You're asking for it."

"No I'm not," Jo laughs very softly, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. The sweet embrace is meant to be quick, but after the initial kiss Jo can't back off. She smiles against Liz's lips and presses into them again, humming once.

"You are," Liz rebuts and brings her arm around her waist in, pulling Jo flush against her. They kiss some more, moving slow and sleepy, the insanely sexy moment getting Jo in a wonderful headspace… until she hears a deep, raspy voice clear itself from behind Liz.

"Mm," that male voice hums as the person it came from wakes up, Jo's heart plummeting the moment she hears it. Her entire world crashes down on her as she pulls away from Liz's lips, the memories of the night before flooding back into her brain all at once.

"Morning," Liz says with a bright, happy voice as she looks over her shoulder at Dean while bringing her hand into Jo's hair blindly.

"Hey," Dean responds with a groggy voice, his hair a mess as he leans up with an elbow onto the pillow under his head. "Morning." Liz leans up to also greet him with a kiss, one that Dean easily accepts.

Liz gives him a combined look of sweetness and sultry want before turning back to focus on Jo, her arm around her waist moving upward. As Jo's form stiffens with awkwardness once she's reminded of Dean's presence, Liz's hand presses to the center of her upper back and pulls her into another kiss.

And now, in the light of day when her emotions are evened out and she's had some solid rest, Jo's not sure how she feels about everything that happened the night before. What did she do!? A threesome, really? With Dean? With a _man_?

With slight disappointment in herself, Jo pulls away gently and ends the embrace.

"Baby?" Liz asks, her hands carding through her hair softly. "You alright?" Her eyes scan her girl over and tries to read her thoughts, not sure how Jo's feeling.

"I… just need to go to the bathroom," Jo says, excusing herself. She backs off and slips out from under the covers. Liz had tossed her a tank top and panties before she fell asleep, her eyes heavy and sliding closed after the long night and even longer emotionally taxing day. She'd been exhausted when she drifted off all too easily which is why she's assuming there's a third person in her bed this morning.

Jo awkwardly makes her way to her closet, pulls her maroon robe around herself to cover up, and heads out the door. As she does she can hear Liz giggling in their bed as Dean speaks low and Jo just shakes her head and closes the bathroom door behind her.

She lowers her underwear and sits on the toilet, not having lied to Liz. As she relieves herself she takes a second to rub her face and think.

What the hell did she do last night? Did she really let a man into her bed, share her Liz, and see her like that? It's embarrassing. It's so awkward. It's…

It reeks of absolute desperation. She got scared. Jo got terrified that Liz was done with her and moving on and she did what Liz wanted her to do. It was so simple and so pathetic on her part… and it's enraging that Liz would put her in that position and use her when she was vulnerable like that.

But the more she thinks the more she remembers, and the more she remembers the more she starts to realize that this was all a mistake. Liz gave her ways out and she never took them.

Flushing the toilet, Jo composes herself. She runs a brush through her hair, brushes her teeth, and heads for the kitchen to make coffee. The entire time she tries her hardest to figure out what she's supposed to do now. How does she treat this? She has to talk to Liz about it but at the same time she can't do it now, not with Dean still there. But she's mad. And so embarrassed.

She needs to leave.

Just a few sips of coffee in, Jo abandons her mug on the counter and heads for the bedroom to quickly get her jogging clothes and get the hell out of the apartment. She needs to clear her head and the claustrophobic feeling she's having is too much for her to handle.

As she walks down the hallway Jo is greeted with a sight she was certainly not prepared for.

"Hey," Dean smiles cockily as he relieves himself in the bathroom with the door wide open.

Jo's eyes avoid him with shock for a second, not having been ready for that.

"Mornin'," his roughed up A.M. voice greets in a yawn as he continues urinating, his lack of embarrassment not something the woman was ready for. "Hey, how do you like your eggs? I'm gonna make breakfast."

She had to get a handle on her gag reflexes at the moment. "I'm not so hungry."

"You sure? It's no problem."

"I'm sure."

"Suit yourself," Dean shrugs as she walks away from him and heads into her bedroom.

"What're you doing?" Liz asks when Jo makes a B-line for their dresser, yanking open drawers and grabbing clothing quickly.

"I need to go for a run," she says, her tone and jerky actions giving her away.

"Oh, no. Jo-Jo. Don't do this," Liz says, seeing through her instantly as she sits up in bed, shaking out her knotted bedhead.

"I need a minute," she informs her girlfriend as she moves hastily, trying to be dressed before Dean comes back into the room.

"Shit. You're regretting everything, aren't you?" When Jo doesn't respond Liz jumps out of bed and rushed over to her. "Baby, please. Just stick around and relax this morning…."

"I don't want to be here right now." She says it calmly and kindly. "Just need some time alone."

"Stop a second," Liz nearly pleads and grabs her arms once her shirt is over her head. "What happened since last night? Everything was fine when we went to sleep."

Jo gives her a slightly angry face. "It was a mistake. I shouldn't have let you talk me into that."

"Talk you into that!? No! I gave you an out and _you_ told Dean to stay," Liz reminds.

"Because I was scared!" Jo shouts within a whisper so that Dean can't hear them. "I thought you were going to leave me."

"I thought _you_ were going to leave _me_!"

"I just… I'm still worried about all this and how it's supposed to work… and it freaked me out that he was in our bed when we woke up."

Her eyes look young and frightened in the moment and Liz moves in to give her one tight hug.

"I'm sorry," Liz says while holding her close. "I should have known better. I should have known that this would make you weird later. I'm sorry, Jo-Jo."

"I know you meant well," Jo admits, backing away from the hug to look at her girl. "You always do. You wouldn't try and hurt me, ever. I just need time alone to process this, alright?"

"I'd rather you stuck around, had breakfast… got to know Dean a little."

"I'm not ready right now," Jo says and grabs her sneakers and plops down on the chair in the room to put them on.

"That's ok," Liz understands completely. "I just really appreciate you giving this whole thing a chance. I'll do whatever you want to make it work for you, Dean too. We both want you to be happy in this whole thing."

_We. _Jo bites her tongue so that the sarcastic comment she had ready doesn't leap out of her mouth. She finishes tying her sneakers and stands up, taking and elastic off the dresser and pulling her hair up. "I'll be back later. Might run to campus and grab some things I left there yesterday."

"You never forget stuff," Liz laughs a little at the idea. Her girl is far too organized for that.

"I wasn't in a very good headspace when I left yesterday."

And the guilt hits. "Right. Um, if you need a ride back just call. I'll come get you."

"Ok. Thanks," Jo answers without really sounding too excited and heads through the apartment. She stops at the little table by the door to fish her iPhone and keys out of her purse.

"So?" she hears a male voice ask and when she looks into the kitchen to her left Dean is standing in front of the refrigerator, fishing out a carton of eggs.

"So… what?" she questions, plugging her earbuds in and opening her music.

"How do you like your eggs? That was a serious question," he grins wide at her and stands tall, his bare chest looking right at her and reminding her that she's seen even more of him than just that. "I'm awesome at making breakfast and I really think you should eat with us. Can I suggest over easy?"

"I'm going for a run," Jo says simply and opens the front door without looking at him.

"Oh, ok… well I can just wait…."

And the door shuts.

"For you to get back," Dean finishes to himself, his whole demeanor not lowered with Jo's reaction to him. "And make you something then."

Liz appears in the open doorway of the kitchen, looking at him sadly in her strappy tank top and silky black pajama pants. "She's freaking out."

"I can see that," Dean says, pulling the frying pan off the stovetop and killing the flame. "Great. I figured after last night she'd be open to all this."

"Last night she was scared," Liz explains, walking for him and bringing her arms around his middle. "And in the light of day she's… weirded out by what happened."

"Is this gonna set us back?" he asks her, face full of concern.

Surprisingly Liz smiles up at him affectionately. She kisses his lips quickly once before saying, "Us?"

"Of course," he answers as if it were very obvious.

"That's why I love you," Liz tells him.

"I thought it was my domineering prowess in the sack," he eyes her jokingly.

"I love you for many reasons," Liz corrects and kisses him again before backing away. She meanders to the window that faces the front of the building, looking out with worry. She undoubtedly is watching Jo jog away.

"Fuck this," Dean says. "I'm taking you to breakfast."

"What if Jo needs me to drive her home?" Liz asks, turning to him again.

"Then you can leave and get her," Dean shrugs. "How long do her jogs usually last?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"If we're fighting or not," Liz says, looking out the window again. "This jog could be a few hours."

Dean walks for her, pulling his arms around her shoulders from behind and looking out the window with her. They both watch the blonde ponytail bounce away while Liz grasps onto his forearms and leans her weight into him.

"She'll come around," Dean promises her, kissing her cheek. "She'll see how good this works out. She needs time to see it."

"Your optimism might be misplaced," Liz tells him within a sigh.

"Or your pessimism is a little too strong," Dean counters. "Let her prove herself."

Liz just nods before leaning the back of her head into Dean's chest while looking up at him. "Buy me all the mimosas?"

"Done," Dean smirks, kisses her, and pushes her away from him. "Now get some real clothes on. You look cheap."

"I thought you loved cheap?" she smirks, pulling her shirt off as she walks away from him towards her bedroom to change.

When he sees the skin of her bare back, her dark tattoos on her side visible and sexy as hell, Dean marches right after her. "Alright, I'm gonna need about fifteen minutes of your time before you're allowed to get dressed."

"What about breakfast?" she asks, turning and walking backwards while topless.

"You get breakfast after," Dean says, running to her, picking her up and rushing for the bed. "Just need fifteen minutes, I swear…."


	17. Glitter and Ink (Part 8)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile. **

**Nothing massive has changed but enough dialogue is gone to make it worth the click over to the other site.**

* * *

**Two Months Later**

The elevator dings and when Jo arrives on her floor and she rolls out her neck. It's been a long day. She stayed on campus late to finish evaluating the currently due papers she collected that day and now she's ready to be home.

And if the text message she got from Liz two hours ago tells her anything, she's about to have a much better night than the day she had.

Unlocking the door, she walks through and drops her purse on the table. She shrugs out of her coat, hangs it up, and starts heading through the living room, about to call out Liz's name.

"Hey!" Dean greets with a wide, happy face as he makes his way into the living room from the hallway. "You're earlier than we thought!"

"The hell are you doing here?" Jo asks, her face falling instantly when she sees the man. A couple months in and Jo's still not comfortable in this arrangement despite how often she lies and says that she is.

"Liz asked me for a favor," Dean smirks, winking at her as he walks past her.

"What favor?"

"You'll see," Dean answers, grabbing his coat and putting it on.

"I'm confused," Jo admits. "You're leaving?"

"I did the favor," he shrugs with a grin. "And now I'm gone. She wants to spend the night with you, not me."

"Ok…"

"Enjoy," he says, giving her a slick and knowing look, raising his eyebrows as he shuts the door behind him.

Jo is all thrown off. She looks around and sees nothing out of the ordinary. The place is silent. "Liz?"

Nothing.

So Jo moves down the hall to their bedroom, knowing that must be where Liz is. When she opens the door she sees something she was _not_ prepared for.

Spread out on the bed is her girlfriend, her wrists bound to their headboard with silky black ties. There's a matching blindfold covering her eyes and a small, black thong is the only thing covering any little bit of her skin. On their nightstand is an assortment of toys, all of which Jo's never seen before.

Now she understands the text she got.

_Want to show you something new. Can't wait to see that cute little ass at home. Love you!_

This was not what she was expecting.

"Liz?" Jo calls out to her girl and she watches her lips curl up in a smile.

"Hi, baby," she says to her without being able to see her.

"What the hell is all this?" Jo asks, walking to the bed and sitting next to her laid out girlfriend, lifting the blindfold to get some eye contact.

"Surprise!" Liz smiles giddily. "I wanted to give you a little something since you've been so busy and tense lately so… I gave you me! However you want me, baby. Whatever you want." Her eyes are lit up with excitement.

"Liz, I… think you've forgotten who I am," Jo says, sitting there with confusion. "This…" she starts, picking up an item from the nightstand. "This is not us."

"Why not?" Liz shrugs as best she can while tied up.

"I don't even know what this is!" Jo says, holding the item up.

"That's a ball gag," Liz says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

The look she gets in return in one of disappointed disgust.

"Just try it out," Liz suggests.

"I don't want to try it out," Jo puts the item back with frustration. "I like what we have. Why do we need to change it?"

Liz's face completely falls. "You've been so stressed I just wanted to find an outlet for you. And we trust each other so…."

"So you want to dive into the world of… what? Depraved sex?"

"Depraved!? Jo-Jo, relax!" Liz laughs slightly. "There's nothing depraved happening here. It's just fun! It's sex, Jo. Just sex."

"And I like _our_ sex," Jo says to her, untying one wrist. "I like that when I'm with you it's serious and loving… and really beautiful. I don't need to do all… _this_."

"But why can't we do that too?" Liz wonders. "Sex is… versatile." She unties her second wrist herself once her first one is free. "It can be fun and crazy, it can be dirty…. It can be rough or sweet. Why does it have to always be one thing?"

"I'm not _Dean_, Liz," Jo says with an acrid tone.

And Liz sits up, looking hurt as she grabs Jo's hand. "I know that."

"So stop trying to do the weird, messed up stuff you do with him… with me," Jo angrily answers, getting up and taking a few steps away. She stares at her when she realizes she's reacting too largely and has given herself away.

For a quiet moment Liz takes a second to look at this whole situation for what it really is. "This isn't about sex."

"No. It's not," Jo says, her hand over her eyes with her back to Liz.

"What is it then?"

It's quiet.

"Jo-Jo, what's going on?" Liz asks, knowing that something is up.

"I got the job."

For a quick moment Liz's brain reels with the information. "The Stanford job?"

"Yes," Jo says, turning around to look at her girl. "They told me last week. They want me there for the next semester."

"That's in, like… a month," Liz comments, thinking over the schedule.

"Three weeks," Jo corrects. "They start earlier."

"Shit," Liz says when everything starts to sink in. "Holy shit, Jo. That's huge." She smiles a bit, knowing that this is a promotion for Jo.

"And it's a big decision," Jo say without grinning back.

"Why didn't you tell me when you found out?" Liz questions, reaching for her short, back silk robe hanging off the end of the bed to put it on. No need to have this conversation naked.

"I was afraid," Jo says with obviousness.

"Of telling me how awesome you are?" Liz laughs as she stands up.

"Of telling you that I'm moving an entire state away… and not knowing if you'd come with me or not."

And then Liz feels the bullet pierce through her heart. Dean.

"Fuck," Liz says aloud, her head a swimming mess right away.

"Exactly," Jo tells her, flopping down on the overstuffed chair in their bedroom. "I knew that when I applied for the job that you'd be with me. But that was before you met Dean."

Liz huffs a few very scared breaths with the issue presented to her.

"Liz, I want you with me," Jo pleads in a kind and loving tone. "I want you to come to California with me, get a house, have a family like we always planned."

"I just… I can't just leave him," Liz says simply when that's all her brain can handle.

"But can you let me leave and not come with?" Jo asks. "I mean… are you gonna choose him over me and stay here?"

Liz opens her mouth but can't answer at first. She can't imagine Jo leaving for California without her… but leaving Dean? That seems just as horrifying.

"Oh God," Jo shakes her head and hangs it.

"You're asking a huge question without letting me think first," Liz says to her girl.

"I was just hoping that you loved me enough that it wouldn't been such a tough decision."

"Jo-Jo," Liz says with upset, getting on her knees at Jo's feet. "I love you so much."

"But you love him too."

"I do," Liz nods. "So this is very… shit."

"I didn't tell you because I was scared," Jo tells her. "I didn't want you to choose him over me."

"Then stay and I don't have to," Liz says kindly.

"Don't ask me not to take the job," Jo says and gets angry. "I'm furthering my career."

"Is your career more important than love?" Liz asks.

Jo's face falls completely. "I'm sorry that you don't understand my view on the importance of a good career…."

"What does that mean?" Liz cautiously asks.

"Liz, you're a stripper."

"_Dancer_," she corrects, pulling away a bit with the tone her girlfriend uses.

"Furthering your career? What would that even be, full blown prostitution? You can't understand this…."

"Don't!" Liz warns, pointing at her girlfriend threateningly. "Don't you dare!"

Jo's eyes close with her mistake. "I'm sorry. I'm freaked out here…. I'm just saying that… you can't see this my way."

"And you can't see it my way either!"

"Yeah! Because I don't have the capacity to love more than one person!" Jo gets angry. "If you were normal this wouldn't be a problem!"

The last blow is the harshest, worst thing she's ever experienced from Jo. This is not something her woman would say to her, not before. This is painful and mean beyond mean and Jo is really out to hurt her with this one.

Liz gives up and stands up on her feet. She heads for her closet.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Jo says instantly, standing up and rushing to Liz. "I'm so sorry!"

"I don't want to talk to you right now," Liz says, pulling on clothing without really seeing what she's grabbing.

"I'm just really scared here!" Jo excuses as Liz doesn't slow down. "I'm losing it. I can't lose you!"

"Why not?" Liz challenges with fury, pulling a sweatshirt on over her tight t-shirt. "I mean, losing me wouldn't be so fucking bad, would it? I am just a _stripper_ after all."

"Liz…."

"Fuck you, Jo," she cuts off her apologies and walks out the room, heading for the door.

"I shouldn't have said that!" Jo excuses, following her.

"You're right, you shouldn't have," Liz says, pulling her boots on and grabbing her keys. "I need to get away from you."

"Please stay," Jo pleads. "We need to talk…."

"I don't like a damn thing you're saying right now," Liz tells her. "So why should I stay? To get further insulted?"

Jo just looks to her with regret.

"You need to cool off and compose a better argument for getting me to leave with you," Liz says with anger, coat in hand. "And I need to just cool off."

She leaves without another word exchanged.

* * *

Getting out of his car, Dean flips his keys in his hands before walking for the front door of his apartment building. A night alone, what a concept. Sam's with Jess for the night, Liz is busy… it's been a while that he had the place to himself.

And then he thinks about how he left Liz. Mm. Lucky Jo. He's feeling a pang of sheer jealousy at it all. His girl was looking awfully amazing the way he left her.

When Dean rounds the corner of the building he finds someone sitting on the steps.

"Well this is disappointing," Dean says to Liz as she puffs away on a cigarette all alone.

"You're disappointed to see me?" she challenges, her eyes sad and worried.

"Never," his sincere voice answers truthfully and Liz can feel the love he has over seeing her when he didn't expect to. "I'm just disappointed that the lesbionic fantasy I had in my head that was gonna keep me up all night isn't happening right now."

Liz huffs a miserable laugh at that and takes a big, long drag off her cigarette.

"What happened?"

"A lot," Liz says to him, flicking the butt out into the street before standing up. "We need to talk."

* * *

"Oh my God!" Liz's eyes roll back when he starts he starts to feel just too damn good.

"Not God, baby," Dean laughs a little through his moaning voice. He leans down close to her ear and with a sinister grin on his lips, he says, "Just a guy that wants to spend the rest of his time absolutely wrecking you every chance I get."

And the fun is over for her in that second. She loses it completely and knows that she can't be on the floor having crazy sex with Dean when her problems come flooding back to her with his one comment.

"Wait," Liz says, letting her leg go. "Dean, hold on."

"What? What's happening?" Dean asks, backing off and pausing everything completely when he can see that's what she needs.

"Shit," Liz says, sitting up on the floor and holding her face in her hands.

"Ok, does this have anything to do with why you showed up on my steps instead of being in bed with Jo?" Dean has to ask. She said they needed to talk but the second he told her Sam wasn't home she attacked him. They didn't make it any further than the couch with her determination to devour him.

"Dean, I… I don't know what to do," Liz says, her voice breaking with sadness.

"About?"

"Jo," she tells him, looking right into his eyes as her heart breaks with the perfect green color that looks back at her. "She got the job. In California."

The face he shows her must look exactly like the one she gave Jo when she came clean. Dumbfounded shock.

"She wants to take it," Liz says. "And she wants me to go with her."

"You can't," Dean spills out before he can stop himself. Dean's prided himself in staying out of Liz's head until now, letting her decide for herself what she wants and how. But this one… he can't help it.

Her face melts into apologies. "I can't stay if she goes."

"I can't go to California," Dean says. "I have a business here. My family is here."

"And I'm not asking you to leave here," Liz swears. "Jo is doing that to me and I hate it. I would never expect you to do the same and I wouldn't ask you to."

A few deep breaths, Dean gets scared. "Am I about to lose you?"

"No," Liz answers quickly.

"So you're staying?" he hopes.

"I can't."

The bewildered look he gives her shows he's as confused as she is.

"What are telling me?" Dean finally asks.

Liz takes a deep breath as her eyes fill up. "I don't know." She starts to cry, leaning her side into the foot of the couch with a hand over her eyes. "Why is this happening?"

No answer able to be given, Dean moves over to her and pulls her into an uncomfortable hug on the floor. She brings her arms around his neck and hangs on as if she really is losing him in that very second.

"I was finally happy," she tells him. "It all finally made sense to me."

"We'll figure it out," Dean promises her, letting her hang on hard to him. "I'm with you. We'll find a way, Liz. We will. It'll work out because it has to.

* * *

"What does your day look like today?" Dean asks quietly, his voice low and sleepy as he wakes up on his own, his hand crawling slowly across Liz's lower stomach as she's on her back.

"Hm, work at five tonight," she says in an equally groggy tone as she turns her head towards him. "Need to do laundry."

"You gonna talk to Jo?" he questions, his fingertips tracing the top line of her panties and Liz can feel the inner spark spread through her with it.

"Don't want to talk about her right now," Liz denies, her hips moving slowly with want that developed insanely quickly.

"You two need to talk," Dean says, not letting his hand travel any lower, knowing he has to get her to agree. She never does the right thing but, if it kills him, he's going to do his best to steer her in the right direction whenever he can. He wants her to be the good person he knows she is. "You're gonna be miserable until you do."

Her bright chestnut eyes meet his, the want clear. She wedges a hand between his cheek and pillow. "Why do you bother?"

"With what?"

"Me. My stupid decision making," she answers, leaning in and kissing him quickly. He rolls onto his side fully and keeps eye contact as his hand keeps making patterns on her lower stomach. "Why are you so driven to make me do what I don't want to do?"

"I want you to do what's right," Dean says. "I want you to be the person I see you as."

"And who am I, in your eyes?"

Dean scans her face over. "Perfect. Flaws and all. You're perfect."

Why he can see this in her she'll never know. Her whole life she was the fuck up. Her parents never understood her, her sister couldn't stand her, she never had friends that stuck around… even Jo got frustrated when she's be immature or wild or just not who Jo thought she should or could be. But Dean… he sees her. The real her. The her she always wished she could be but didn't know how and he's steering her in that direction.

"How the hell can you love me so much?" Liz asks, still not getting it.

He gives her a look of surprise. "How could I not? Look at you. You're beautiful… and you're smart."

"No one has _ever_ called me smart before," Liz scoffs.

"But you are. You can go to work and in one night make the equivalent of a month's salary because you understand people. You're smart. You read people, you get them. And you're kind and you're so loving. You're open to everyone and you're never mean a second of your life. You don't have a mean bone in your body and that's beautiful."

"You're so good to me," Liz says with a smile, the genuine moment something rare in her life. She's a bombshell sex-addict that people don't take seriously. He knows her for what she is under that layer that most people don't give a shit enough to push past.

Dean grins slightly while she's clearly feeling this vulnerable.

"Because you deserve it," Dean whispers into her ear despite being the only people in the apartment right now. "And because I know you love me. I know you don't want to ever live without me and no one has ever felt that way about me before. And because I know you won't leave me."

She looks at him with surprise, his conviction clear. He truly believes it.

"How can you be sure?" she wants to know.

"I would do anything to be with you," Dean tells her, spilling his heart in order to make sure he doesn't in fact lose her. "And I know that everything I have in my heart for you… you have for me." He kisses her neck a few times.

"You keep this up and I won't be able to leave," she jokes through the serious, his talents shocking for a man. Women usually know how to play her better but Dean must have a map of her and how she works stored in his hard drive because he's crushing most anyone she's been with. "I want my wings."

"The tattoo?" Dean asks, licking up her neck to her ear.

"Yes. Please," she asks, breathing picking up as her face flushes with enjoyment. She closes her eyes to focus on the feeling. "I need the pain right now. And I want your work on me."

"Ok," Dean responds, outlining her ear with his tongue.

"Today?" she asks, turning and looking at him.

"Seriously?" Dean asks. "Just like that?"

"Yeah. You have time?" she wonders.

"Yeah, I can do that," Dean says. "My first half of the day if free. I can get the outline done and then some."

She smiles wide. "You're saving my life."

He gives her a quick, funny look before pressing his lips to hers before diving into a slow, relaxing morning of the kind of fun she needs right now.

* * *

"Hey," Liz greets when she returns home around three that afternoon.

"Hi," Jo says with caution, standing up from the couch where she's been reading. She drops her book to focus on her girl.

But Liz isn't ready so she just walks past her to get ready for work.

"Please don't give me the silent treatment," Jo says, following her like a little puppy into their bedroom so Liz can change and grab her makeup case.

"I'm not. I just don't know what to say to you."

"I know what I have to say to you though," Jo admits as Liz riffles through the closet. "I'm sorry, Lizzy. I shouldn't have said those things to you."

"Well, you said them so I don't know what you can do about it."

"Liz, you love your work and you're good at it," Jo says, stopping her with her hands on Liz's shoulders from behind. "I shouldn't have belittled your job. That wasn't fair."

"No, it wasn't," Liz tells her. "But at least I know the truth about how you view me and my choices in life so that's good."

"If I honestly didn't like your job then I wouldn't be with you," Lou tells her.

"But you don't respect it," Liz tells her, turning to face her. "And you clearly don't respect me all that much."

"I do, I promise," Jo pleads. "I was just angry and I'm constantly scared lately…."

"What the hell are you so scared about?" Liz challenges her.

"Losing you," Jo admits. "I know what I have with you and I don't want to lose it."

"Why me?" Liz asks her suddenly.

"Why you what?"

"Why are you with me? You're beautiful and smart and successful… you could have any woman you wanted and I'm sure most of them would be far easier to deal with than me."

Jo smiles after quickly thinking about it. "You remember the night we met?"

"Of course," Liz says, unsure where this is going.

"You told me you loved me that night, remember?"

"Yes."

"That's why I want to be with you," Jo says. "Who else would be crazy enough to be that honest and open to feeling that deeply after one night? You're wonderful, Liz. You make me feel so good about myself just by being around you and I'm so… uh, I love you. I know we're in a bad situation but living without you in my life sounds just impossible."

Liz's resolve to stay mad starts to weaken. "I need to get to work. Can you stay up tonight? We can talk about this when I get home."

"I can do that," Jo says with a small, hopeful grin.

"Good," Liz says, smiling softly as she starts to pulls off her clothing, her shirt gingerly being lifted off first.

"You got another tattoo?" Jo questions when she can see the clear plastic covering taped to her entire back. "It's huge!"

"Dean did it this morning," she says to her without hesitation.

"What is it? Wings?" Jo wonders, seeing the basic outline of the work through the ointment and plastic.

"Yeah, big black ones," Liz says simply.

"Why black?" Jo wonders, inspecting the work a bit.

"It's just… I really wanted a pair of big, beautiful, black angel wings."

"Is the bandage ready to come off?" Jo wonders quickly.

"Yeah, it's been a couple hours," Liz nods.

"Can I help you get it off then?"

Liz turns to meet her girl's eyes. "Uh, yeah. That'd be helpful, thanks."

"Come on," Jo says, taking her hand and leading her to the bathroom. Working slowly and carefully, she removes the bandage and ointment, recalling the past times she's helped Liz with this. Once done, patting her reddened skin dry with clean paper towels, she gets a good look at the beginnings of a very intricate and honestly beautiful piece.

"Do you hate it?" Liz asks, thinking Jo's far too quiet about it.

"It's… actually, I really like it," Jo awes with full honesty. "It's gorgeous."

"Well, it's only half done so far."

"Dean's really, _really_ good at what he does," Jo fesses up, shocked by how damn good this one piece is coming out. "It's… it's so you."

"Thanks," Liz blushes a little at the compliment.

"I love it," Jo tells her and turns her back to the mirror, handing over a handheld mirror for Liz to check it herself.

"I already saw it at the shop," Liz laughs.

"See it again," Jo eggs her on, looking over her shoulder and into the big bathroom vanity also. "You look amazing."

"I really like it," Liz admits. "It's exactly what I had pictured." And it is. Dean knew what she wanted, saw the same wings in his own dreams, and he did the image complete justice. "Can't wait until it's done."

"When can you go back in?"

"Few weeks," Liz says, looking to Jo. Her face shows her nervousness. "We'll talk tonight."

"Ok," she nods as Liz leaves to get ready for work.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

"Hey!" Dean grins wide and with pleasant surprise as he watches Liz walk through the front door of his shop. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm hoping you have an appointment free rest of your day," Liz says, her hands in her back pockets as she stands in front of him on the opposite side of the glass counter. "I know it's last minute and all but I'm kind of dying to finish my wings up."

"Shit! Can I see 'em?" a very enthusiastic voice questions as one of Dean's employees, Julia, come out from the back room after hearing Liz's voice.

"Hey, Julia," Liz smiles kindly, knowing the excitement the girl has over apprenticing at the shop. She's motivated and all… but there's always too much of a good thing.

"Dean's been talking about these wings ever since you started them," she fills Liz in. "Said they're his best work in a while."

"It is," Liz promises, glancing at Dean with hesitation. "He knows not to fuck this up." She winks.

"Would never screw up that perfect canvas," Dean says right back.

"So?" Julia asks, her thick black rimmed glasses being pulled off her shirt where they're hanging and pops them onto her face.

"Uh," Liz looks around, no one else in the shop. "Ok. What the hell."

She pulls her long sleeved t-shirt off and turns around, pulling her hair to the side to clear the view.

"Holy shit, Dean!" Julia says, walking closer to Liz's back. "This is… fuck, man!" She laughs as she awes over the halfway finished work.

"It's barely anything yet," he assures her, looking at the work also. "I have a lot of work to do still."

"Detailing, shadowing, yeah… but it's clear that this is going to be… holy fuck," Julia tells him, her hand running down Liz's back.

"Julia," Dean calls out, the woman looking over to him expectantly. "Maybe don't touch the clients unless you're doing actual work on them, huh?"

"Sorry!" Julia says and pulls her hand away. "Liz, damn. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Liz says assumingly. "Wasn't offended at all." She winks at the cute girl.

"I was!" Dean jokes. "You might have liked it too much and I'm standing right here."

Liz smiles but doesn't play along like usual. "So, do you think you can finish this up for me today?"

"Uh… I don't have any appointments but… depends on what time you have to work tonight."

"I'm off."

"On a Friday!?" Dean asks with wide eyes, shocked to hear this.

"I took it off," Liz excuses. "I want this tat done and done. I'm too excited about it."

"Jesus," Dean says, a hand washing down his face. "Guess I should probably get going on that right now then."

She just smiles in return.

"Come on back," Dean waves her over and they make their way to his set up.

* * *

"Damn," Dean steps back, looking over his work and studying every single little detail he's put into it. She came in at noon, they started around one and now, after minimal breaks, it's nine at night and he's finally finished. "I knew I was good, but _damn_, I am _good_."

"It's perfect, isn't it?" Liz asks with high hopes over her shoulder, reclined stomach down in his chair with her full back exposed.

"Oh, sweetheart… whatever is better than perfect is what this is."

"Shit," Liz awes, looking over her shoulder at him. "You usually crap on your own work."

"Not today," Dean admits, dropping his tattoo gun on his tray and grabbing everything he needs to clean her up. "I've never been happy with one tat in my life until today."

"Because you're way too hard on yourself."

"I guess."

"You are," Liz nails it home. "And you shouldn't be."

"You're saying that because you have to," Dean jokes his way out of the compliment.

"No, I'm saying it because it's true. You have no idea what you are because you won't let yourself see it. You should be in a much bigger city earning triple per piece of art and using douche bags like Bieber and Miley Cyrus as a canvas."

"Why would I want to tattoo them?" he asks, wiping down the excess ink on her back.

"Because they'd make you famous."

"I don't want to be famous," Dean answers easily, knowing he'd hate that.

"You wouldn't have a choice. You're too talented."

Dean looks up at her just slightly smiling face and decides that he needs to ask about her demeanor now that he's not so focused elsewhere. "What's with you?"

"What do you mean?" Liz asks, looking away from him and instead at the deep red painted wall in front of her as she lies stomach down and straddling his customer chair.

"I mean that for the past two weeks you haven't been yourself," he explains, continuing his work. "You've been distant. And unhappy."

"I'm happy," Liz rebuts.

"Not like you usually are," he quickly counters.

She doesn't have an answer for that. "Just… had a lot on my mind."

"Like?"

"Like… what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life." It's not a lie. She has been conflicted as hell.

"Ok… where's this coming from?" Dean partially laughs.

"I don't know."

"Be honest."

She can't do that. She just can't. So instead she starts to lie. "Lou's got a great career, you're a business owner that's successful… and I'm a fucking stripper."

"Dancer," Dean corrects with a smirk.

A small, brief smile tugs at her lips for a second. "I take my clothes off for money is the point. Eventually things will sag and lose their money-making abilities…."

"You'll be hot when you're eighty so relax," Dean tells her.

"But I won't be stripping at eighty. No one wants to see that," Liz says with certainty.

"Please! There's definitely elderly stripper kinks out there somewhere…."

"And I refuse to be a part of that," Liz tells him, a smile on her face. He's funny and can make her relax even now. "But… what the fuck am I doing with my life?"

"You'll figure it out," Dean says easily. "We'll figure out something that makes you happy and can further your career in… whatever you want. World's you're oyster, Liz."

"Quite the sunny outlook," she says while thinking.

"Oh, I'm a sunny kind of guy," he jests. "What makes you happy?"

"Honestly? Stripping. I love it."

"What else?"

"No idea," she answers.

"What about opening your own place?" Dean asks. "I know all about small businesses that provide a service, you know the sex industry… so what about opening your own club?"

"I've never saved enough for that," Liz scoffs at the idea.

"I have," Dean says simply and without thinking twice.

"What?" Liz asks, the offer huge.

"I've saved a lot," Dean says. "This place has made good money and I've never really invested in much besides retirement. I could be your backer, get you on your feet."

"I can't ask you to do that for me…"

"You didn't ask."

"That's… you're insane," Liz tells him.

"For believing in you?" Dean questions and laughs.

"Absolutely. I'm a fuck up."

"Oh shit, don't go to a bank looking for a loan ever, ok? You don't know how to sell yourself at all."

"Says the man that bought me the night we met," Liz, smirks, her chin resting on her crossed forearms as she looks at the wall still.

"Touché," Dean answers back, pressing clean gauze to her skin to clean everything up. "You wanna see it?"

She pauses and thinks. "No."

"No!?" Dean gets offended.

"I trust you," Liz says. "Completely. I know it's amazing already."

"So take a peek!" Dean says, handing a handheld mirror to her and asking her to get up. She doesn't.

"Come here," Liz asks, placing the mirror on the tray.

"You're seriously freaking me out," he tells her, pulling his gloves off and tossing them in the trash can as he walks towards her head. When he stands in front of her she instantly reaches for his jeans while eyeing him, her head level with his hips.

"I'm not trying to," she says while lowering his zipper. "Just wanted to say thank you."

"I wasn't gonna charge you for the tattoo," Dean promises with another joke as she licks her lips slowly, making his hard instantly.

"I want to say thank you for being so fucking good to me," she explains, yanking his jeans down just enough. "Because no one has ever been so good to me, ever. Not even Jo. Not even my grandmother. Just you."

Dean looks at her funny as they both stare at each other. "I love you," he simply shrugs. "Why wouldn't I be good to you?"

"And that's why I need to thank you," she nods slightly as her hand snakes into his boxers. "I know, more than I know anything else… that you will always love me."

Dean's face wrinkles with slight confusion over why she's saying this right now but then she pulls him free of his clothing and wastes no time in swirling her tongue around his tip, a move done more than well and with promise of everything to come. Her talent is strong and his worries over her odd behavior are gone.


	18. Glitter and Ink (Part 9)

**Two Years and Seven Months Later**

Hands sweating and heart beating so fast it scares her, Liz stares at the doorbell with utter, all-consuming terror. When… no, _if_ she presses it everything is going to happen. The door will open and everything will happen so fast. Words will be exchanged, anger stirred, maybe even total hatred… she's never been so afraid of a simple button in her life.

But she fucked up. She fucked up harder than she's ever seen someone actually fuck up in life and owning up to it all isn't going to be easy. In fact, it might be the hardest thing she's ever done and she's done a lot of terrible, dishonest, and difficult things in her past that she's had to make up for.

But, above all, she's going to see him again… and this is the most frightened she's ever been in memory. Throwing up sounds like a great idea. So does running and hiding forever, giving up on this stupid ass idea of hers.

No, she can't give up. She's the screw up and she has so much to apologize for, years worth of time to make up for, and no matter how embarrassing and how much just desserts she's going to have to eat she needs to do this. For once she's doing the right thing. It's about time.

With shaking fingers, Liz lifts her hand and depresses the doorbell on the cute, small, two story home in the Boulder suburbs.

She's going to throw up. It's going to happen, her mouth is watering… and now she hears footsteps. Oh God, don't puke…..

The door opens and she can hear his voice for the first time in over two years speaking to whoever is in his house with him.

"…Just stay in bed! I'll be right back!" Dean shouts behind him, a clear smile on his face that she can only hear, and a girl laughs loudly from the second story. "Don't you dare puts your clothes back on! I'm serious!" When he turns to look out the doorway in order to greet his visitor his face drops and washes out a solid three shades paler with the recognition.

"Hi," Liz says in a quiet voice, her long black hair now with a deep red tint to it shines in the sunlight, her face serious and clearly scared as she looks at him for the first time in so long.

"Jesus," Dean whispers to himself as the surprise of seeing her there runs through his system. Liz. Liz is on his doorstep. _His_ Liz. His brain freezes temporarily, shutting down with total shock as he stares at her face stoically. It feels like someone punched him square in the gut… or maybe right in the heart.

And Liz herself freezes up with her own shock. She knew it'd be insane to see him again but actually doing it is something she couldn't have prepared for no matter how she might have tried. And worst of all, he's shirtless with just a black pair of cotton sweatpants hanging low off his hips. There's a new tattoo on his torso, it looks to be of a pinup girl pole dancing, running down his front-left side. His eyes are still that same green she remembers and he looks to have not aged a day. He looks downright amazing.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Dean finally speaks up when his voice returns to him, the acidic tone it takes almost dangerous.

"I came to talk to you," Liz admits right away, not looking to sugar coat anything.

"_After three years_?" he asks with anger seeping through. "You couldn't just pick up a phone?"

"You deserve better than that," she tells him, sure of it. "I just… Dean, I really need to talk to you and doing it over the phone wouldn't be right. I've fucked up so majorly that for once in my life I have to do the right thing."

"You have no fucking right coming back here, you know that?" Dean asks her, the more he looks at her bright brown eyes the more pissed off he gets. What right does she have coming back like this? None!

"I absolutely know that," Liz tells him. "I know what I deserve and I certainly don't deserve you giving me the time of day at all." She looks down at her feet in shame and humility. "But I still need to ask for it anyways. I _really_ need to talk to you."

With everything in him he wishes he could say no to her. She's hurt him so badly there aren't words to give it justice… yet seeing her there, so meek and asking for him… suddenly it doesn't feel like any time has passed at all. His love for her runs that deeply that even after what she's done he still feels for her and wants no harm or upset to come over her. He just wants to hug her and tell her that, no matter what, everything will be ok.

God damn her. He _hates_ her right now.

"_Fuck_," Dean complains harshly and looks around his yard to avoid her. "Wait here, ok?"

"Ok, anything," she says, a very nervous smile shared with him as he shuts the door and leaves her there on the front, white painted porch alone, the silence of the quaint neighborhood midday on a weekday making her feel incredibly solitary.

But he's going to let her talk. Ok, this is good. She has to make sure she can compose her thoughts right and get ready to grovel if need be but the chance has been given. As she takes out a cigarette from the fresh pack in her purse, she lights up and starts to think, sort through her fears and her story, and prepares for the worst just in case.

Halfway through her cigarette the front door opens again and Liz can hear two people talking.

"I'll call you," Dean says to a woman, a tall, thin blonde with too much makeup and a very tight t-shirt on to display her large breasts.

"You better," she nearly growls back before pulling the collar of the t-shirt he put on towards her. She kisses him deeply, Liz immediately looking away from the display. It's even clearer now that her timing to visit was a terrible one. Dean was very busy today and what made her think he wouldn't be?

"Bye, babe," Dean says to her and Liz's heart tries not to shatter all together at it. Babe. That's not a random girl.

"Tonight," she says back. "You owe me."

Dean laughs and as the blonde woman passes Liz she gives her a look of pure hatred, one Liz knows she's earned.

Getting into the red Miata parked in front of Dean's house, the blonde woman drives off as Dean takes a seat next to Liz on the wooden steps.

"You still smoke?" he questions in a way that makes it clear that he disapproves.

"Haven't in just about three years," she tells him, never looking up from the cigarette between her fingers.

"Why restart now then?" Dean punches out, mad that she's got him caring about her wellbeing just by being there. Fuck her.

"She's pretty," Liz mentions to change the subject, her eyes off on the road the Miata disappeared down. She's not lying, having truly appreciated the looks of the woman that just came out of his house. "Girlfriend?"

"Why are you here?" Dean cuts her off, not about to talk about his life with her. She doesn't get to have that ease with him anymore.

"Talk about a loaded question," Liz comments with a huff of disgust in herself, looking at the grass below with stress.

"Liz," Dean simply says her name and she looks to him instantly. "Three years."

"I know."

"You left without a fucking word."

"I know, I'm sorry," her voice cracks already with sadness and embarrassment. She takes a drag off her cigarette to stop the crying from happening.

"I had to find out that you ditched me when I went to your apartment and the doorman told me you'd moved," Dean spills it all out with the pent up outrage he still feels for that whole experience. "Do you have any idea… how…?" He stops talking and balls up his fists while looking out across his lawn. "I felt like my entire fucking world collapsed on me that day."

Liz hangs her head, her cigarette still burning as it rests between her fingers. Tears make their way down her cheeks and land on the bricks of the steps below. "I hurt you so badly. Ugh, I can't believe how much I…. It wasn't something I ever wanted to do…."

"If it was over then you should have just told me…."

"It wasn't," Liz says, looking at him with her watery eyes. "It was never over, not for me. I didn't leave because of anything bad happening between us. We were great. God, we were… _beautiful_. That's why... that's why I chickened out and just left instead of face it."

Dean grits his teeth, remembering how damn much it hurt when he finally realized she just left him high and dry, no explanation, no goodbye, no anything. It was like she was a ghost, she never really existed. Once she was gone he'd been certain at points that it was all in his head, a dream that couldn't have been real. She was too good to be real and he never thought she could do such a thing to him.

"I have a whole lot to explain," Liz says, killing her cigarette and flicking it out to the street. "And it's gonna be hard to get through but I want you to know all of it and you have every right to know. I don't expect you to feel bad for me and I don't expect you to ever like me again much less be kind to me… but all I ask is that you listen to my whole side of it. That's it." She sighs and looks at him with hopeful sadness. "Please just tell me you'll listen. If you want nothing to do with me when I'm done, I'll completely understand and I'll be out of your hair forever."

Shaking his head, Dean looks away from her. The sight of her is still infuriating him yet it's making him long for the days when he was happy with her. It had only been a few months but to say that was the best time of his life would still somehow be an understatement. He'd never felt contentment like that before her and he hasn't found it since. And with her tight black t-shirt showing her still killer form paired with ripped up jeans that frame her ass perfectly… she looks fantastic. Maybe better than he remembers.

"Fine," Dean answers her, agreeing to listen. "But I already regret it."

"Thank you," she says while looking to him, her face lightening up for the first time since he opened the door.

"Come on," he says to her, standing up and lending a hand to help her up. She takes it and Dean tries to ignore the fact that his heart skips really quickly with the contact. He lets go the second she's standing and he takes a seat on one of the chairs on the porch that runs the length of the house front, pointing to the second seat set up next to it with a small, glass top table between them. "Sit down."

She hesitates, still nervous about all of this, but instead of run like she's good at she walks over to the chair and sits down. Time to be brave for once. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, and opens her mouth to talk.

"So I take it you went to California with Jo after she got the Stanford job," Dean beats her to it.

Liz nods. "Yeah. She… she talked me into going."

"You were always gonna follow her, Liz," Dean tells her, completely sure of it in hindsight. "You're loyal to a fault. You were with her first and you promised you'd stick with her long before you met me."

"At least you know me well," Liz responds quietly.

"Lot of good that's done me," Dean comments quickly before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. "If that's what you came here to tell me, that I know you well, then don't bother. I'm already all too aware."

"That's not what I came here to say."

"Good," he nods and sighs. "So, I have to know… when you showed up to finish off that tat… you'd already decided, hadn't you?"

"Yes," Liz says to him. "I… our apartment was already packed. We left the next morning."

"You sat in my fucking shop for hours…" he starts, voice level yet furious. "We spent the damn day together, we _fucked_ in my chair… and you never said a word." His eyes are hard on her, judging her like he should. She's never seen him like this, so angry and hurt… and she hates it.

"I spent that whole day trying not to cry or, or break down and give in to what I _really_ wanted."

"Which was?"

"To stay here," Liz blurts it out. "I denied it the whole time but deep down… I wanted to stay here. With you. And I realize the massive mistake I've made."

"You just now realized this?"

"I realized it the second I left," she corrects.

"So, what? Does this mean you're single again?" Dean surmises, thinking that's what it took to get her here.

"Jo and I are done, yeah," Liz nods.

"No wonder you're here," Dean scoffs at her for this desperate move. "Jo dumps your ass and the first thing you do is come here and try to get me back?"

"That's not why I'm here," Liz says to him, hurt he'd assume such a thing from her.

"Hate to break it to you but I'm not gonna reheat Jo's leftovers," Dean tells her. "I won't be your backup."

"You were _never_ my backup," she tells him as heartfelt as she can be. "And I broke up with her."

Dean looks at her with shock. "Never thought you'd have the guts."

"Me neither but things have changed," she tells him. "I've changed."

"How?"

"A lot of ways."

"Then what did it to you?" he keeps prying, not understanding.

She just smiles fondly to herself for a moment, her mind elsewhere, but she comes back awfully fast. "I'll explain that in a bit. First, I need you to understand that I know how badly I fucked up. I know that the life that I could have had with you would have been… amazing. And beautiful. You are the _one_ true love of my life and I lost you because I was a frightened little girl that refused to open her eyes. I've always sabotaged things for myself, you know my past, and now… now I see it. I know how destructive I've been. I've changed for the better and I need to make things right. Dean, I'm sorry for messing this up between us. Because I freaked out and made all the wrong decisions, I lost you. I lost _us_. And… you suffered for that. I'm sorry that my weakness and stupidity caused you this much pain. I really am sorry, Dean." Her spilling eyes just look at him pleadingly.

Washing a hand down his face with surprise, Dean's speechless. He always hoped she'd realize the err of her ways, that she'd see what she lost… and now that she does he has sympathy instead of the triumph he always thought he'd feel. That hatred he'd built up for her is crumbling piece by piece simply with her presence and he knows it.

"I don't expect you to accept my apologies," Liz lets him know. "If you don't I would get it."

"I do," Dean tells her, his soft spot for her back with just that explanation. "I accept it. You had to overcome a lot to say all that so… I get it."

"Thank you," Liz's shoulders relax finally as she can see that this was a good idea now. How she could have ever thought that Dean, _her_ Dean, wouldn't be forgiving of her she has no idea. This is the kind of thing that made her love him so damn quickly in the first place. "Seriously, Dean. Thank you. I was so fucking scared to come here." She wipes at her face roughly with her bare hands.

"Yeah, well, you know you'll always be a weakness for me," Dean says stubbornly, hating the truth. He should despise her.

"I sure do now," Liz says to him, swallowing hard as her hands fiddle with a loose thread on the bottom hem of her shirt.

"What?" Dean questions, watching her posture stiffen again. "Why are you still nervous?"

"And now I wish you _didn't_ know me so well," Liz laughs with sheer tension as he notices her being off still.

"Well, keep talking," Dean tells her. "I mean, what have you got to lose, right?"

"Your respect," Liz says. "And you might seriously hate me once I keep talking."

Dean's face drops once more.

"Oh shit," Liz sighs and plows right on through. "So, I moved back here. To Boulder. For good."

He stares at her, waiting for that other shoe to thud loudly onto the floor.

"And I didn't move alone," she tells him.

"You have a new woman?"

"A have a man in my life," Liz smiles wide. "He's wonderful and so sweet. And I just adore him."

"You come here to brag about your new boyfriend to me?" Dean wonders with sheer audacity.

"Not a boyfriend. I moved here with my son," she corrects. "I have a little boy."

"You what!?" Dean sits up tall with shock. He couldn't have heard her right.

"He's coming up on two years old soon. His name's Max."

She just waits as the news sinks in for him, knowing he will need a moment. And she's right. Dean's head is reeling with this information. He never would have thought she'd be in this place by now.

"So… you and Jo?"

"Well, kind of," Liz nods, her smile fading. "It's been… Max and Jo never really… bonded."

"What do you mean?" Dean questions with wide eyes.

"I mean that when I had Max…"

"_You_ had Max?" Dean wonders aloud, the words out before he can control it.

"Yes," she smiles at him. "I had Max. He's biologically mine."

"I thought Jo always wanted to have the kids."

"She did. And that was half the problem," Liz tells him. "When I got pregnant it was a complete surprise. I was… a little careless when I shouldn't have been and… I created Max unexpectedly." A soft smile forms on her red lips. "When I met him my life changed. He took one look up at me with his big green eyes and… uh, I was in love. And I saw how stupid and selfish I was in my life. I turned everything around. I was a mom first. I stopped stripping, I threw myself into raising him right… and in the process I became detached from Jo."

As Liz hunches over and sighs, Dean reads the loss of Jo all over her. He's well aware of how much that woman meant to her and the breakup had to hurt, whether it was the right relationship or not.

"Jo resented me, I know she did," Liz looks at him sincerely. "I took away the one thing she wanted more than anything. I got pregnant first, I had a child that had nothing to do with her, and she never really loved Max. She tried, I know she did, but… she couldn't love him."

"Why not?" Dean asks, not understanding how Jo could be so cold.

"Because she said that every time she looked at him all she saw was Max's father."

"Ok…?" Dean asks, not getting it. "There's a fifty-fifty that a kid'll look like his dad."

"And Max does. _ A lot_," Liz tells him. "And that was painful for Jo. She didn't like Max's father much."

"But she knows you bang dudes sometimes…."

"But I loved this dude," Liz says quickly, knowing the information is dangerous to spill. "I loved him deeply. Still do. And Jo couldn't handle that."

"What do you, fall in love five times a year?" Dean asks with shock.

"No. Only ever fallen once."

Dean just stares at her for a moment, very lost.

"Dean, it's you," Liz says with a very frightened voice. "You're the dude. You're Max's father."

Eyes blown wider than wide, he just stares at her face unable to react. As he tries to unsuccessfully process this Liz keeps talking, getting out as much as she can before he maybe freaks out.

"It was our last time together, according to when my due date was. I didn't know I was pregnant until about a month after I left. I told Jo and she was mad and happy at the same time… and she asked me to keep this between us. She told me it would never work if you knew…."

"And you listened!?" he asks, voice high with upset as it all starts to settle in and get real.

"The list of mistakes I've made is so long it's unreadable," she admits. "I just wanted to be happy. After leaving you I felt like I was never going to be happy again but the promise a baby held…."

"You had no right!" he fires out, standing up as everything hits like a cement brick to the face. "How could you!? How!? You… you had my kid and you never told me!?"

"I'm awful," she tells him pathetically, hanging her head as the tears start to fall again. "I'm sorry…."

"Not good enough!" Dean shouts, leaning down into her face. "Fuck you, Liz! How!? How could you do this to me!?"

"I'm sorry." She keeps repeating it. "I'm so sorry."

Dean stomps down the steps of the porch and starts to pace the front yard, unable to contain himself. She lied, she deceived, she broke his heart, and she kept his own boy from him, a boy she never even told him about.

"I don't know what to do with this!" he admits, panicking. "What the fuck do I do with this!? This kid must hate me!"

"He can't hate anyone," she says, wiping her face. "He's too sweet. And he's young still."

"He doesn't even know me!" Dean yells at her accusingly again. "I'm, I'm… not ready for a kid! I never even thought about kids! My place is… and I don't have a crib or, or, or… toys! Fucking crayons!? I have nothing to give him!"

"I have everything covered," Liz tells him. "I'm not here for stuff. I can support Max fully. I just want him to have his father in his life, especially since his mother is a fuck up. At least one of his parents should be a good influence."

"Oh, God!" he keeps freaking out, hands locked on the back of his head as he looks around him. A boy? He's a dad? What the hell is happening?

Closing his eyes, he thinks for a second. Ok. Liz is here. She's here to see him and apologize. And tell him he's a father. He has a child. A kid. He's a dad. Ok, calm down a second.

"How old?" Dean asks, eyes still closed and hands still clasped on his head.

"A year and ten months," Liz responds quickly.

"Birthday?"

"October 19th."

"Name?"

She pauses a second. "Maxwell Dean Noonan."

He opens his eyes and looks right at her with surprise.

"Maxwell is just a cool name and no kid of mine will ever have a lame name," she explains. "The Dean part is self-explanatory. And Noonan, my last name, for now… unless his father wants full in and it'll be changed to Winchester."

He can't speak and he can't function so much as he can stand there in total awe. She does care. She wouldn't use his name as Max's middle if she didn't.

"He's got these huge, beautiful green eyes," she says. "And big, full lips. He has dark brown hair and this cute little pointy nose… and he's so happy. He's always smiling." She tears up again. "He's just the… the stars in my fucking sky. And he deserves everything… including a really great father that will never do him wrong."

Dean just shakes his head with never-ending disbelief.

"You're going to be wonderful," she swears him, getting up and walking down the steps towards him. "I promise you, Dean… you meet him and you'll be in total love. It'll come naturally to you, you'll see."

Dean just nods his head and looks at her with worry. "When, uh… oh shit. When can I meet him?"

"In a couple minutes?" Liz says with anxiety, watching Dean freeze up again with fear.

"What!? Right now!?"

"You remember the bartender from the South Pole, Kaylee?" Liz asks, Dean nodding in return. "Well, we stayed in touch here and there and she agreed to watch him for me while I came here to talk to you. I told her to give me a half hour. She's on her way."

"Fuck," Dean whispers and inhales hard, his heart racing.

"Relax," Liz smiles, a hand on his shoulder as her comfort with him starts to return all too quickly and quite naturally. "He's gonna love you. And you'll be fine."

"I don't know about any of this," Dean says, suddenly helpless and lost while looking at her. His eyes plead for her help with all this.

"Neither did I," she says kindly. "But it'll be fine. I promise you."

"Fuck," he repeats, his hands shaking with nerves.

"Everything will be fine once you meet him, I swear."

"Ok, um. Yeah," he nods, not hearing her at all as he watches a black SUV pull up to the curb in front of the house.

Liz walks right for it and Dean watches her open the back passenger side door, he can't see in the car as she's blocking the view but all he knows it everything around him goes quiet. He can't hear her greeting her son with a sweet voice or Kaylee's tone speak to her about the hour she watched him. All he can hear is his heart beating as he focuses in.

When Liz pulls a small boy out of the car and sits him on her hip, his world changes. His chest explodes when he sees him. Max is a carbon copy of himself. The eyes, the lips, the facial expressions even… that's a small little Dean she's holding.

And then she's walking towards him as the black car drives off and he starts to sweat. Oh shit. This is really happening. An hour ago he was fucking a blonde chick in his bed in the middle of the afternoon and now he's on his front lawn meeting his son. What the fuck is going on?

"Dean," Liz smiles so wide it must hurt her cheeks as she comes to a stop less than a foot in front of him. "This is Max. Maxie, baby… this is Dean. Can you say hi?"

"Hi," the little boy says very quietly as he presses his cheek into his mother's shoulder, acting shy.

"H-hi… Max," Dean says slowly, coming to terms with everything as he looks at the most fascinating person he's ever met. "How you doing?"

"Good," he says with a small smile, looking out from under Liz's chin.

"So, I was thinking," Liz says down to Max, lifting his chin so he'll look at her. "I want to hang out with Dean today. He's mommy's friend."

"'Kay," he says back, eyes drifting to Dean and back to his mother.

"He's really nice," Liz says while holding Max closer to her, eyes on Dean. "And he's funny and I think you're gonna have fun with him."

"'Kay," Max repeats, down for whatever as he's an easy going child. He then grabs the necklace on his mother's neck and plays with it.

"Dean, is that ok with you?" Liz asks cautiously, looking at him with all the hope in the world.

"Uh, yeah," he nods quickly, rubbing his hands together when he doesn't know what to do with them. "Yeah, um, come on in, Max." He waves him into his home.

Liz puts her son down so he can walk himself. Max takes a few steps towards the house but stops when he's standing next to Dean. He reaches up and grabs the man's hand in his, something he usually does while walking with people anywhere, and silently asks him to lead the way since his mother clearly trusts the man.

And Dean suddenly has the feeling of pure, instant, and all-consuming love filling his entire being with that simple yet trusting contact. This kid is his, no doubt, and the gesture of faith in him brings it all forward.

Together Dean walks with Max into his house, Liz following close behind as she sends out a little prayer of thanks that this might actually work out after all.

* * *

"Damn, he loves SpongeBob," Dean comments quietly over Max's head as they all sit on the couch. Liz is on one end, Dean on the other, and Max is sitting with his side pressed up against Dean's with his eyes glued to the TV and a thumb planted firmly in his mouth. The afternoon went shockingly well, playing games and running around the small house. Max is a bright, fun-loving kid that easily took to Dean as he does everyone, but a real trust was built up there and it happened so fast Dean's head is still spinning over it.

The real surprise, even to him, was that Dean was excellent with kids. He never knew that about himself as he never had the opportunity to find out. Max is the first kid he's ever spent any kind of time with. In the end, after hide and seek, grilled cheese sandwiches, and finding some paper and old, multicolored sharpie markers to color with, Dean's had a great day with a little boy that is nothing but smiles and a pure heart.

"You have no idea," Liz laughs. "I've seen every episode more times than I can count. This show is kind of old for him but I can't keep him from it. He loves it."

"Do they always scream like this?" Dean asks, the loud volume of the annoying voices on the show almost irritating.

"All the time. I think it's part of the appeal somehow," Liz laughs, honestly laughs, and it make Dean look over at her.

That sound. He used to live by that sound. For the months they had together he would do anything to get her to giggle like that, the music it creates just soul-filling for him. And she looks amazing. Her hair is still long and this time it's reddish. Her eyes are still lined with winged black liner and her lips are still painted red but it's somehow softer, kinder. She's grown up, too. He can tell just by the way she speaks and cares for Max. Everything about her is still the same, fun-loving, slightly goofy yet extremely caring and loving Liz… but she's better, more confident. She's renewed. He really likes seeing her like this.

And worst of all, they got along perfectly all afternoon. There was no animosity between them, no grudges, no anger… not as long as Max was around. They focused on him and through doing so they found that their easy way still exists. He likes who she is as a person still. She's fun to be around. And the attraction certainly hasn't lessened. Even with a casual t-shirt and old, faded and worn jeans on, she still looks fucking fantastic.

That could be a problem. He can feel his resolve weakening right along with his anger. He's still insanely mad that he's missed so much of his son's life but at this point, with Max there, he can't be terribly mad. She could have never come back and he could have continued life never knowing he had a child at all. He's almost grateful as Max is quickly becoming the most important thing in his life. He can't live another day without this boy now that he knows of him and has him tucked into his side like he's always been there.

"Hey, uh," Dean starts, looking over Max's head still to talk to his mom. He brings an arm around the boy's small frame, pulling him in tight. "This is gonna sound weird but… thanks. For this."

"You're thanking me!?" she asks with utter shock.

"Yeah," Dean nods, looking down to see the little face of his son… his son! It's concentrated on the TV, brow lowered and eyes trained, and he knows he could say anything right now and Max wouldn't hear it. "I mean, you didn't _have_ to come back. You could have stayed with Jo or gone anywhere in the world you wanted to but you came here for me. I just… I really appreciate you coming back and letting me know him."

"Love at first sight, right?" Liz smiles genuinely when she sees it all over him.

"He's awesome," Dean grins like a man in love.

"Please don't thank me," Liz asks of him. "I kept him from you for two years. I'm a _horrible_ person. I'm the one needing to say thank you for not killing me. Seriously, I thought this was going to go so much worse."

Dean nods. "Yeah, well… I don't really know how to hate you. I can be mad but I can't hold onto that, not when you're right in front of me." He stares at her a second. "You look really good, Liz."

"Thanks," she says with nervousness. "You're looking pretty good yourself these days."

Dean just grins slightly before looking back down at Max.

"I, uh… wow, I really expected so much worse from you and I really shouldn't have." Liz shakes her head.

"Why?"

"Because you're _Dean_," she admits, smiling at him as her heart skips just to be near him again. She will never push the issue of the two of them being together ever again. That wouldn't be fair to him and she's the one that ruined it in the first place. She lost her chance with the greatest man she ever met. "You've always been… you're just my Dean. I know you. I should've expected nothing less than understanding from you since all you've ever done is been highly understanding of me and my mess."

He smiles at her for a second, about to tell her he missed her against all better judgment, when his phone rings.

Liz looks to the end table next to her to see Dean's phone flashing the name Kristiana. As her heart falls down to her feet, remembering the woman that left his house early after Liz's presence ruined what she knows to be an afternoon of sex, the kind she dreams about every night ever since she left him, she hands it over. "Here."

"Thanks," Dean says, looking at the caller I.D. before ignoring the call and putting the phone down.

"You can answer it," Liz reminds him, not wanting her being there to ruin all aspects of his life.

"Nah, it's fine," he says to the television as he watches SpongeBob and prepares himself for liking the show since his boy clearly does.

"Dean?"

He immediately looks at her.

"Max's existence is changing your life enough. I'm not here to turn every single aspect of it upside down. You said you'd call the girl that was here earlier so… call her back."

"That wasn't her," Dean quickly admits.

Liz's face spreads into a slow, wide smile. "How many are there?"

"Right now… two," Dean admits easily as she knows who he is. He never lied to her. Dean was not a faithful, relationship person before Liz. He wasn't after her either. "But I'm thinking they're gonna be gone real soon."

"Why?" Liz asks.

"I have more important things to focus on," Dean admits to her while looking at Max.

"So… nothing serious then?" Liz asks, her voice giving her away immediately. She's curious, _too_ curious. She wants to know if he's got another woman and the answer, even after nearly three years, will affect her greatly either way.

Dean grins triumphantly at this. "What if I said there _was_ a girl I was serious with?"

"Oh, uh," she shakes her head and tries to play it off, miserably failing. "No. I would… be happy for you, Dean. I want you to be happy."

"Wow," Dean laughs a little, his fingers combing through Max's dark hair as he does. "Max."

The little boy looks up at him.

"Is your mommy always such a bad liar?"

Max just stares at him confused while sucking his thumb still.

"Never mind," Dean laughs it off and Max keeps watching TV. He looks at Liz, looking her over once and recalling all the insane fun they used to have together. Thinking that anyone could compare to that, that there's a woman that can hold a candle to what he had with Liz, is completely preposterous. No one can replace her. No one. "Liz… ha…." He pauses, unsure of how to phrase things without making himself sound crazy.

Looking at him with big eyes and waiting, Liz isn't sure what's happening here.

"I don't have anyone seriously in my life… besides Sam. And my Dad," Dean laughs a little more, this time nervously. "You have been the only one I've ever dealt with seriously."

She wishes she didn't let out a little smirk but she did. Hearing that was comforting and it gave her hope that he can't hate her at all. This could work out. She and Dean can live amicably.

"Move in," Dean blurts out, the gesture past his lips before he can really fully understand what he's offering.

"What!?" Liz laughs at him.

"Move in," he repeats. "I have the room. This house has two bedrooms. It's big enough for now and we can always get a bigger place later."

"I can't do that," Liz denies right off.

"Why not?" Dean challenges.

"Because… Dean, crap, I just showed up on your doorstep with your _son_ this afternoon."

"Exactly."

"Huh?" she asks with confusion.

"I missed so much," Dean makes it obvious as he looks down at Max for the millionth time, having a difficult time ever keeping his eyes anywhere but on the little boy. "I don't want to miss anymore. I want time with him every day… and if you two live anywhere else I won't get that."

Her heart melts at this. "That's very sweet." Liz watches as he studies Max's face yet again. "But we can't do that."

"Why not?" Dean wonders, eyes on her with disappointment.

"Because… we would need a three bedroom, first of all," Liz starts to list.

"I love sleeping on the couch," Dean offers.

"And we're already set up at an apartment on Mapleton," she explains.

"Move out," Dean says simply.

"No," Liz denies again and Dean sighs with frustration, his arm around Max tightening with sadness. "We need more than one afternoon to figure this out."

"What is there to figure out?"

"Dean! We can't live in the same house like that!" she laughs at the idea. "What are we gonna do? I'll bring home someone one night, you'll have girls in and out of here every other day… it'll hurt us both constantly, or at least… it'll hurt me."

He doesn't say anything and just stares at her.

"I can't see you with other women like that," she reiterates. "It's crazy hypocritical but… I can't."

"Who said there would be other women around?" Dean asks.

"I know you," she says sweetly, not looking to be insulting.

"Not well enough," Dean corrects. "You move here with me and there will never be women coming here. Max will never be exposed to that and I hope you haven't been doing that yourself with him around."

"I've been a celibate mom since I left Jo."

"No shit," Dean nods, eyes darting to Max once he swears in his presence by mistake.

"He can't hear anything but SpongeBob and Patrick, I promise," she relieves his fears.

Dean locks sights with her again, Liz's bright brown eyes looking at him kindly and he knows what he wants deep down. And this time he's going to make it work if it kills him. She'll never run again if he does this right… and he will do this right because he has to.

"Move in here," he says again, using more authority in his tone and hoping it'll work. "Break your lease and come here. We'll find a bigger place soon and move and… we'll be great parents and we'll do it together."

"We," she smiles at the idea. "Dean, I ruined _we_."

"Then I want to fix we," he tells her, making Liz do a comical, wide-eyed response. His heart beats hard and rapid, the truth creeping up his throat without his allowing it. "I might be the dumbest dude on the planet for this but… Liz, God. I missed you."

Her face wrinkles with his honesty. "I missed you so much." She swallows hard to push the lump forming in her throat down. Her eyes water a little bit with relief.

"It'll take time. I don't want to fuck this up. I'm pissed at what you did and I'm not sure how to forgive you yet… but I'll figure it out. I will."

"Thank you," she says, a single tear making its way down her cheek and she quickly wipes it.

"I want all of this," he says, grabbing her hand and squeezing. "I want the house. I want the big backyard and breakfast with my son _every_ morning… and I want his mother to be so madly in love with me that we spend every day happy and making up for our past mistakes. I want a woman that I can trust and love for the rest of my life… and will blow my freakin' mind every night once our son goes to sleep."

Liz lets out a breath that's shaky and a half-laugh, her entire form relaxing as he tells her the shocking truth.

"And now and then she'll bring a female friend to bed for a little extra fun because she's cool enough to dig chicks too," he winks at her and she starts to really cry, knowing he'll always understand her needs and be accepting.

She presses a hand over her mouth and lets herself cry, making Max look away from the TV. When he sees her he gets upset.

"Mommy?" Max says, voice showing his worry as he crawls across the couch and onto her. He sits in her lap and looks up at her, his own eyes getting watery. "You cryin'?"

"On, no, baby," Liz says right away and wipes her face before hugging him tight. "I'm not sad. I'm really happy."

"Why you cryin'?" he asks her.

"Because I'm so happy," she tells him, kissing his forehead. "I'm really, really happy, honey." She brushes a thumb over his little cheek and makes a quick decision. "Dean is a nice guy, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's being so nice to mommy right now that I cried a little. But tears aren't always sad, baby. Sometimes they're happy. And I'm really happy."

She combs through his short, spiked hair that she had cut to look like Dean's as she remembered it being and smiles at her son with absolute fondness. She's going to make his life more stable. She's going to give him a good, loving home without fighting and turmoil.

"Maxie, do you remember what we talked about last week?" she starts, recalling a conversation her son started in the car as they drove to Boulder. "When you asked me why you didn't have a daddy like the other kids at daycare?"

Dean's face drops instantly when he hears this.

"Yeah."

"And what did I tell you?"

"I have a dad," Max says, his hands playing with her long pendant necklace.

"And?"

"I'mma see him."

"Max, do you like Dean?" Liz asks with a huge smile on her face, looking to him with her slightly smudged black-lined eyes.

"Yes."

"What if I told you Dean was your dad, honey?" Liz further asks him, smiling the entire time. "Would you be happy with that?"

Max looks over to Dean with a shy expression, one that still shows that he likes the idea. Dean smiles at him and his son smiles back.

"You like that, don't you?" Liz questions, already knowing.

"Yeah," Max answers, his voice surprisingly enthusiastic.

"Good," Liz grins wide at Dean before leaning down to kiss Max's cheek. "Why don't you go give your daddy a great big hug, huh? Go ahead," she says with a push.

Max makes his way across the couch and leans right into Dean, his arms around the man's neck. He may not fully understand it but Max is getting the basics of it. Dean is his dad and, just like the other kids he met at day care, he has a dad too. Some of his friends had two, some only one, but most of them had dads and the dads he saw picking up his friends after school always seemed pretty cool. He wants to be like that.

Dean's heart somehow doesn't burst right out of his chest in this moment as he brings his arms around his son and holds him. This had to be the thing that he's been looking for his whole life. He always thought he was different, not like everyone else, but maybe he was. He's a father. He's has a son. He wants happiness and domesticity all of a sudden and he knows this is it for him. He's going to join the masses and be boring… and he's so very excepting of that.

"Uh, ha," Dean sighs with true love. "I'm so happy you're here, bud."


	19. Glitter and Ink (Part 10)

"Dad, calm down!"

Liz pauses on her way to the bathroom when she hears Dean' shushed yet stressed out voice speaking in the living room early in the morning. She woke up just minutes ago after a lovely night spent at Dean's. They ran around the backyard, drew some pictures, watched a kid's movie, and once Max fell asleep on the couch it was decided that Liz and he would stay the night. Just that night. Dean tucked Max into the bed in the spare room before he and Liz stayed up for hours, catching up on life and remembering how easy it was to be around each other.

"Yes, I know this is insane…." Dean keeps going, angered. "Yes! I know! But she's here and she brought our _son_ with her! What do you suppose I should have done, huh?"

Liz walks to the doorway silently, eavesdropping on him. His shirtless back is to her as he speaks on the phone. He's sitting on the couch he slept on after having given her his bed for the night and the blanket is still over his lap. She never forgot what a gentleman he can be but it was a lovely reminder that he hasn't changed a bit. He's still always making sure she's comfortable.

"Well, that's ridiculous! I would _never_ turn her away," Dean fires out, his voice a harsh whisper as he assumes she and Max are both still asleep. "Because…. Yes! You knew if she ever came back that I wouldn't kick her to the curb…. I'm aware…. I don't know. I just can't."

Liz smiles at this.

"Plus, she had Max with her…. Yes, his name is Max. And I like the name so don't bother commenting." He runs a hand over his bedhead out of stress. "Dad, I know this is a shock and all but you gotta stop for a fucking second and listen to me…. Sorry, ok? I'm just… this is all happening so fast."

When he hangs his head a little lower Liz's guilt starts to creep right back in. That's a lot of pressure she's putting on him all at once. She's reminded of how poor her decision making skills have been up until now.

"Yeah, I'm ok…. I'm hanging in there," Dean nods absently. "It's, it's nuts. This whole thing is crazy but… it's good. It's a really good thing…. Ha. Yeah. I'm pretty fucking sure he's mine, dad…. Liz told me I'm the only guy she's been with in years…. Of course I believed her! She's not gonna lie about that…. Because I know she wouldn't! She's made some shitty decisions but she isn't evil…. Trust me, I just know…. Well, for starters, he looks just like me. Same eye color, same face, but get this; he has Sam's nose…. Yup, just like mom. She's totally in there…. He's a good looking kid. And he's… he's just amazing. I got to hang out with him all day yesterday…. Don't be a dick about this, huh? Just listen. Max is, he's just great. He's happy and he smiles all the time. He's really sweet…. Shut up…. Yes, I said he's sweet, alright? Now's not the time to jump up my ass over girly vocabulary."

Clamping a hand over her mouth, Liz tries her damnedest not to audibly laugh and give away her presence.

"He's an awesome kid and I want you to meet him," Dean keeps talking. "Come over today at noon. I'm gonna call Sam and have him come over too…. Oh yeah. He's gonna be a nightmare. But that's why I need _you_ to be nice to her…."

She watches Dean pull his phone away from his ear as he takes a deep breath.

"Dad! I'm not saying you have to like her, not yet, but you have to be nice," Dean says. "She's trying here! She made mistakes but she's making up for it…. Of course I trust her! I know I shouldn't, ok? I'm setting myself up for disaster but she won't hurt me like that again…. I just know."

Liz swallows hard, seeing the trust he has for her that she never earned herself. She better do this all the right way this time.

"Well, if you want me and Max in your life then you have to be nice to her…. Yes. That's the deal…." He listens for a moment and then his voice lowers, getting back to its usual kind tone instead of the highly defensive one he keeps slipping into. "Don't ask me that…. I haven't seen her in almost three years. I don't even know her anymore…." He pauses and listens again. "Yeah, I guess you're right…. Honestly? Yeah, I think so..." He laughs to himself. "Or maybe I already know so…. I always have. Nothing's changed for me…. I know it should have but it hasn't."

Liz just smiles and leans against the doorframe, looking at the man she knows she's never once stopped loving. He feels the same to her, he makes her feel the same. Winning the lottery couldn't possibly feel half as good as this.

"So be nice today, please. She needs that," Dean asks of his father. "Come by at noon. Have lunch with us. You're gonna fall for this kid in a heartbeat, I swear…. He's awesome…. Yeah. Ok…. Later."

Dean hangs up his phone and tosses it to the cushion next to him before rubbing his hands up and down his face and then over his bedhead while sighing.

"Thanks for sticking up for me."

Sharply turning around, Dean sees Liz standing there in her long sleeved t-shirt from the previous day and a pair of his sweatpants that he lent her. She looks amazing with her makeup washed off and her hair slightly unkempt, his clothing making her more appealing somehow.

"Anytime," Dean laughs and turns back around, sitting back on the couch as she plops down next to him.

"They hate me, don't they?" she pries, looking to gauge her coming afternoon.

"Dad's not exactly happy but he'll be fine. He just needs to sit with it the rest of the morning," Dean says to her. "Sam'll be another story."

"Sam never liked me."

"Sam saw you as a potential disaster for me," Dean corrects. "And I hate that he was right."

Liz nods. "Still… I appreciate that you're on my side right now. You don't have to be. I'd understand if you were pissed."

"I'm not."

"How in the hell is that possible?"

Dean shrugs. "You'll always be my Liz."

She blinks a few times with shock at this. She smiles awkwardly at him and waits a second before saying, "I'm still a little scared to see them."

"I'll have your back. You'll be fine."

Leaning towards him, Liz says, "Thanks." She then kisses his cheek for his sweetness.

He thinks quickly over what he'd like to do, knowing he shouldn't, but in the end he says fuck it. Life is short, right? Dean quickly presses his lips to hers in a small, short kiss.

And Liz is caught completely off guard. She never saw that coming, especially since they decided to take things slow last night. They haven't even talked in almost three years so they need to see if they can still be _them_. She's letting Dean pace this out as he's the one that gets to make all decisions concerning them. She lost her control when she left him and lied for years.

When Dean pulls away and locks eyes with her he smiles. He doesn't regret it at all.

Surprising him, Liz rushes forward. She grabs his jaw and presses her lips to his hard, kissing him for real. She takes his bottom lip between hers just like she always did and it feels comfortable and familiar. And she's been dying to do this from the second he opened his front door yesterday.

Dean responds, kissing her back despite knowing he shouldn't. Slow and steady wins the race as he's not letting a fast moving fire burn out too quickly this time around. But she just feels so damn good….

"Mommy!?"

Liz huffs a laugh as she ends the kiss abruptly, knowing the only thing that could come between her and Dean in a moment like that would be the only other man in her life.

"I'm in here, baby!" she yells back to him as she puts a little bit of distance between Dean and herself.

Soon they both hear tiny footsteps. Dean and Liz look down the hall just in time to see Max running through the spare bedroom doorway, Dean's black Led Zeppelin t-shirt dragging behind him as it's far too big for him. His little hands barely make it past the short sleeve hems.

"Morning, sunshine!" Liz greets like always as Max rushes to her with his arms out. She picks him up and pulls him in, kissing his face several times. "Did you sleep tight?"

"Yes," he says in his tiny voice, looking at Dean as Liz sits him in her lap, his back against her stomach.

"That's good," she smiles as she combs through his wily hair with her fingers. "Did you have good dreams?"

"Yeah," he answers quietly, leaning into his mom while eyeing Dean's face smiling back at him. He pops his thumb in his mouth.

"What did you dream about?"

When Max responds his voice is muffle.

"No thumb when you talk," she reminds him and gently pulls his hand away from his face.

"A man," Max tells his mother, looking up at her.

"What kind a man?"

"A nice man," Max says.

"Well, I'm glad he was nice," Liz smiles.

"SpongeBob?"

"Maybe later," she answers and Dean laughs at his obsession. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

Liz looks to Dean. "Please tell me you have sugary cereal."

"I have sugary cereal," he echoes his answer and looks to Max. "You wanna get breakfast with me?"

Max nods and Dean reaches over to him. He scoops him up and tucks him under his arm, the boy's limbs dangling down as he giggles at Dean's side.

"Cinnamon Toast Crunch it is! Let's go!" Dean says happily and starts for the kitchen, making Max laugh the entire way.

And Liz sits back and watches, falling for Dean all over again.

* * *

"I don't think I can do this," Liz rushes out as she marches into Dean's home after going back to her apartment to clean up and get ready for their day. She has Max on her hip and a bag of his things over her opposite shoulder. She had time away from Dean to really let her anxiety over seeing John and Sam again attack her and now she's a mess. She turns around to face Dean and puts her back to the rest of the house.

"Relax, Liz," Dean says, shutting the door and turning around to face her.

"I can't!" she says with fear. "Dean, they're gonna hate me."

"They won't hate you," he says while taking her bag and placing it on the floor by the door.

"Of course they will! I kept Max from all of you for two years! _I'd_ hate me!"

"You're being dramatic," Dean says with a bright smile as he looks at Max.

"And you're being delusional if you think this is gonna go well," she rebuts.

"Liz, I know it's not gonna be easy…."

"Understatement."

He really looks at her and can see the utter fright in her expression. She's horrified by the idea of owning up to even more people, especially ones that will now always be in her life.

"You'll be ok," he promises to her as he reaches out and takes Max from her, perching him on his hip and kissing his forehead hello. "You just gotta relax. I won't let them go too hard on you."

"I just… oh, God," she says in a young, sad tone. "I want what's best for Max."

"That was the whole point of you coming back here and being honest, wasn't it?" Dean asks as he adjusts Max on his hip, the boy leaning into him a bit. He's still comfortable with his newly-met dad.

"And I really want them to like me… at least eventually."

Dean smiles. "They will."

"How could they?" she sighs. "I am a massive screw up. They'll never be able to like me."

A new, deep voice cuts into the conversation right then. "You're making an awful lot of assumptions about me right now." Liz's face falls and her fear becomes glaringly apparent when she hears him from behind her. Shoulders rising up, her posture stiffens and eyes widen. "Maybe you shouldn't do that and instead you should just talk to me."

"Why didn't you tell me he was here," she asks Dean in a whisper, her whole body shaking with nervous fear.

"You didn't really give me much of a chance," he tells her, smiling slightly at her.

"Oh God," she whispers with closed eyes as she turns around, locking sights with John as he stands up from the couch.

"Hello, Liz," he greets and walks over to her.

"Hi… John," she says, her tone bumpy. "H-how are you?" She cringes with the lame question that comes out automatically.

"I've been better," he says with honesty. "I had quite the shock this morning when my son called me to let me know I'm a grandfather. Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."

Liz swallows hard and just stares at him, his height intimidating as is Dean's sometimes. "I'm sorry about that…."

"You had no right taking that boy away from my son and his family like that," John tells him with certainty.

"Dad!" Dean calls out when he feels that his father is crossing a line.

"Dean, let me speak. This is about my grandson," John reminds him and keeps his eyes on Liz. "We missed two years of his life because you were scared. I feel cheated and it's only fair that I be honest with you about it."

"Absolutely," Liz, nods before looking down at the carpet below her feet. "I'm learning just how important honesty is lately."

"Good, because this is one lesson I think you seriously need," John tells her, her shoulders dropping further. "But I like to think that you turning a new leaf and learning from your mistakes is a good start."

Her eyes shoot up to look at him again, surprised by his words.

"Dean told me everything and you need to remember that I'm a parent too, Liz. I know what having a child will do to a person," he explains. "When Dean was born… I was scared to death. I was afraid to do the wrong thing, make the wrong decisions, mess him up, _hold him wrong_… but I didn't. You know why?"

"You'd do anything for your son," Liz answers, knowing she's right.

"Absolutely," John smiles out of nowhere. "And I know you feel the same about that boy of yours or else you wouldn't have come back here. You're confronting people you're clearly terrified of just so Max has a good life with people that love him. I respect that."

Her eyes couldn't possibly grow any wider at this point.

"My son claims you're a changed woman," John tells her. "Are you?"

"I like to believe I am," Liz nods.

"He also thinks you deserve a second chance."

"I don't but he's been nice enough to give me one anyways," she tells him.

"I got a feeling you know how perfect that answer was," John smiles slightly.

"I was proud of it, sir," she jokes, still not smiling but her fear is subsiding.

"Well, if it wasn't for second chances Dean wouldn't exist so I'm a fan of them myself. I was lucky when Mary gave me one once and who am I throw stones when I'm not all that different from you."

Her confused face peers at John, not at all having been ready for any of this.

"It's a long story for another time."

"Ok…."

"I mean, I never took my son from his family…."

"Jesus, dad!" Dean starts to get upset again.

"Dean, I deserved that," Liz tells him. She sighs and looks at John. "And I can't tell you how sorry I am for all this. I've made plenty of mistakes but I promise you I am doing everything I can to make up for them all."

"You know that if you ever hurt my son again…."

"You don't need to dole out threats. John, I'll never hurt him again," Liz says to him in a very serious tone. "Ever. I don't deserve him and, if this all works out… I'll spend my life making it up to him."

A calm comes over John as he stares at her for a quick second. "That was another really good answer, better than I was prepared for."

Liz lets out a laughs of pure relief.

"I'm mad," he stays honest with him. "It's going to take a moment to get past this and I'm gonna be watching you closely for a while."

"I hope you do," Liz says with strong conviction.

"But if you mean it, if you want to be a part of this family and my son wants you here… then welcome, Liz."

John steps forward and wraps his arms around a shell-shocked Liz. At first she doesn't respond, her arms hung by her sides as she can't totally register this shocking turn of events she was nowhere near prepared for.

"Fresh start from here, ok?" John says to her, swallowing his pride and fear over her in order to give Dean what he needed. All his son requested was acceptance of Liz and, despite his hesitation, he gives it. He'll hunt her down if she does his boy wrong again, but he's praying that doesn't ever happen.

"Ok," she says, it coming out as a whisper. She brings her arms up and presses her palms into his back, hugging him in return. "Thank you, John."

After a moment John backs away and looks at her with a softer expression than before. "Now, where's this grandkid of mine?"

Liz steps aside for him and John lays eyes on the little boy for the first time.

"Max," Dean says his name and he looks up at his dad. "I want you to meet someone. This is John." The boy eyes over the older man. "He's _my_ dad."

"How are you, Max?" John asks and holds his hand out to formally introduce himself. Max tucks his head under Dean's chin and just stares at the older man while sucking his thumb.

"Baby, shake John's hand. It's ok," Liz soothingly says to her shy little man.

Max reaches out and holds onto John's hand.

"No, no," John denies right away. "You're a Winchester. Grip my hand nice and hard, like a man."

The little boy tightens his hold.

"There you go," John cheers with a smile. "It's good to meet you, young man."

Max smiles at him as he gets a little silly.

"Buddy, you hungry?" Dean asks his son.

"Yeah," he answers in a small, still shy tone.

"Do you like macaroni and cheese?" Dean watches as Max's eyes light right up.

"He _loves_ mac and cheese," Liz assures him.

"You wanna help me make some for everyone?" Dean questions and Max nods enthusiastically. "Alright. Let's do it!" Hoisting him up, Dean gets Max sitting on his shoulders as they make their way to the kitchen, John following.

Liz takes a second to herself. She needs to get her heart rate lowered now that one confrontation is done. Sadly, since it went a million times better than she could have hoped, she knows the next won't be so easy.

* * *

_Are you out of your fucking mind!? You're letting her just walk back in here like she did nothing wrong!?_

Sitting on the couch with Sesame Street on the TV, Liz's posture stiffens as she hears Sam yelling at his older brother down the hallway. Even the closed bedroom door is doing nothing to cover that fight.

_Sammy, take it down a notch!_

_No! I'm not taking it down a notch! She took your son from you! You have a kid, Dean!_

_ And she's his mother! Knock it off a second and listen!_

_ You're a fucking idiot, you know that!?_

Deep breath, Liz looks over to John sitting at the other end of the couch with Max in his lap. She shares a tight lipped smile with him as she's horrified by the situation. Sam burst through the door, shot her one very angry look, and pulled Dean into his bedroom to talk… or shout. Uncomfortable doesn't even begin to cover it.

"It's a little loud in here," John says, looking down at Max. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," Liz says gratefully as she stands up. "Baby, let's get your shoes."

After putting his sneakers on the three of them head out of the house, leaving behind a pair of very angry, very loud brothers.

"Didn't think that was a good place for Max here to be," John tells her as the walk slowly down the street, the little boy piggy back on him.

"I agree," Liz tells him. "And I knew Sam wasn't going to take this one well."

"No!" John sarcastically responds before he just laughs. "My son, Sammy… he's a good boy but he's got a judgmental way of acting that just… I don't know where he gets it from."

"Well it's not from you," Liz says for sure. "Just by the way you're talking to me kindly right now lets me know Dean gets his extremely understanding ways from you."

"Oh, no. He's like his mother," John corrects her. "I learned a whole lot from Mary about how be a good person. When I was younger… let's just say I wouldn't have been so quick to try and forgive."

"Then maybe Sam is like you," Liz turns it around.

"Maybe. When his mother died when he was so young…." John swallows hard and ends it there. "He just never got to see much of that kindness from her."

Liz nods, seeing how much John misses his wife. "Yeah, well, Sam never liked me before I made the worst decisions of my life so I was prepared for him to _really_ hate me now."

"Before he was nervous about you," John explains to her. "He knew you had the potential to really hurt his big brother."

"He's a smart man," Liz says with upset, hands in her pockets.

"That he is," he nods. "But the situation before… it wasn't a smart set up. You have to know that." John looks at her with hope that she does.

"I do," Liz says. "I was stupid to think that having two people in my life like that could work, especially with Jo. Dean was much more understanding."

"He was also stupid for going with it," John informs her. "Liz, I gotta know that if you're gonna come back and be in Dean's life that he's it for you. I know you… have an inclination towards women too but… Dean has to be enough for you. Just him."

Liz looks at John as he speaks, both pausing their walk to focus on each other.

"He's earned the right to be the only one in your life," John adds on.

"I'd be lucky to have that happen," Liz explains herself. "You know, when I met Dean I thought I was already happy. Jo made me happy and I thought I was totally in love. But then… Dean showed me what true happiness is. With him…." She pauses to think. "I thought I was happy because I had Jo _and_ Dean. But I was wrong. I was only that happy because of Dean. It wasn't that I had the girl and the guy. It was just him. Out of fear and commitment to Jo I neglected to see that I was suddenly so happy the second I met Dean because I had _met Dean_. It was always about him, nothing else. No one else."

"What's to stop you from falling in love all over again?" John wonders aloud. "You seem to do that quite often."

"I've always been told I was too open to people and too lovey," Liz sighs a little. "But with Dean… It's different. I feel different. I feel more."

"That's a good start," John admits, knowing that feeling.

"Dean just… he always made it about us," Liz continues. "_We'll_ find a way, _we'll_ figure it out, _we'll_ talk to Jo… and in return I ran. I made decisions that affected him all by myself out of fear and guilt… and now here I am, showing up with a kid three years later. I wasted three years of our lives that we can't get back. We could have been happy, we could have been a family… but I was a chicken… poop."

John laughs at her censorship while Max laughs at the word poop coming from his mother.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" she asks her son.

"Yeah," he laughs so more.

Lizzy enjoys that little laugh for a moment before looking back to John, returning to her serious conversation. "Just because I find appeal in both men and women doesn't mean I can't be monogamous. Dean is all I want and more than I could ever hope for. There will be no one else, John. I promise you that."

He smiles at her for a second before she continues.

"I just have so much to make up for… I almost don't know where to start."

"Well, being honest was good," John tells her, starting to walk again. "You came back at all and that's also pretty good. You're doing alright, hon."

"Yeah, Dean definitely gets it from you," Liz laughs. "You should want to kill me."

"You gave me a grandkid," he reminds her. "Kind of cancels it all out. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Don't run," he says to her. "If you two don't work out for whatever reason or if you get scared… talk. Don't run. You disappear again it won't just be Dean's heart your breaking." He taps on Max's sneaker to make sure she gets what he means.

"John, I will never take him away from you or from Dean," Liz promises. "I have no way of proving how much I mean that but… I do mean it. Plus, the way Dean looks at him?" She ruffles her boy's hair and grins at him. "I could never deny either of them that connection they already have. Dean's gonna be a really great father."

"He had a heck of an example," John smirks at her, the slick smile so very Dean it makes her laugh.

"That he did," Liz laughs and they walk on quietly for a bit. "How long do you think this will take?"

"Judging by how mad Sam was when he arrived… we should keep walking for a while," John says, peering over his shoulder. "Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like ice cream?"

"Yeah!" he perks up after being slightly ignored while the adults spoke. There's been a lot of adult talking the past day that he's happy John is talking to him now.

"Good, because I know a place a couple streets over that makes a mean sundae," he says, looking to Liz. "But only if that's alright with mom."

"Mommy!?" Max nearly shouts with excitement, gripping John's hair to stay on him. "Ice cream!?"

"Yes, we can get ice cream," she laughs and looks to John. "You made a new best friend."

"Ice cream bribery never fails me," he says to her as they keep walking, looking to keep Max away from the fueled up argument back at the house.

* * *

Sitting on the end of his bed, feet planted into the floor as he rubs his forehead with the growing headache he can feel coming on, Dean sighs with closed eyes. "How many time are we gonna go around in this same circle, Sam?"

"As many times as it takes for me to understand," Sam says to his older brother with arms crossed as he stands a few feet away. An hour of fighting, yelling, and completely misunderstanding each other and they're not a whole lot better than when Sam first arrived. "Dean, I saw what she did to you."

"And that was years ago," Dean reminds.

"You nearly died, Dean!" Sam yells at him. "I watched EMTs pump your fucking stomach when you nearly drank yourself to death. She did that to you!"

"No! _I_ did that to me!" Dean shouts. "Don't blame her for my stupid mistakes!"

"She's the reason you drank that much!"

"She didn't pour the bottle down my fucking throat! I was the stupid one!"

"She nearly crushed you," Sam brings it back down, eyes hard on his brother. "You lost weight, I had to force you to eat… You barely left the house for over a month. You almost lost your business! She's poison!"

Dean takes a second to breathe deeply. "Sam, I'm not asking you to like it…."

"Good!"

"I'm _telling_ you to," Dean sternly says, using his big brother voice. "This decision is not up to you. _I'm_ making it because it's my _life_."

"And your life directly affects mine!"

"You don't like it then you can butt the hell out," Dean says. "You don't have to be a part of my life."

"Don't be stupid," Sam says exasperatedly, his volume lowering. "Of course I do."

It gets silent for once as Dean can't hack much more shouting and rudeness. "Sammy, look… I know you think I'm being stupid. I get it and if you got back with Jessica I'd probably react the same way. But you gotta trust me, man. It's different this time. She's different."

"How can you be so sure after everything?" Sam has to know.

"If you'd talk to her you'd see it too," Dean swears. "She's grown up. She's a friggin' mom. That's made all the difference. Her priorities are completely different now and she puts Max first."

"What about you?"

"A very close second," Dean smirks and Sam rolls his eyes. "We're taking it slow. We aren't back together just yet. We need to see if we still work and I need to rebuild all my trust in her. But I can't do that without you and dad behind me. You guys are all I got."

Sam peers at his brother, feeling his resolve to be stubborn breaking bit by bit by the wise words Dean says.

"I want you to be happy…."

"She makes me happy, Sam," Dean promises. "I know this is nuts, all of it… but I need you to trust me here."

"I trust you," Sam says easily, sitting next to his brother while scratching his clean-shaven face. "I just don't trust her."

"You will," Dean says. "Just give her a chance."

Sam sighs and looks at Dean like he's still a little crazy.

"She's Max's mom. You don't have a choice. Even if Liz and I don't work out she'll still be around. I need you with me on this one, man."

Sam nods. "Dean, I…."

There's a knock on the bedroom door before it opens a crack. John pops his head into the room and looks at his boys. "You're both still alive. Good."

"Hey, dad," Sam says in a low tone, knowing he's lost the battle but his stubbornness is making it hard for him to accept.

"Sammy," John nods. "Thought you might want to meet someone." John head disappears and is quickly replaces by Max's small, wide-smiling one peeking sideways through, John clearly holding him up on the other side.

"Hey, dude," Dean instantly smiles at the silly moment, Max laughing in his small voice.

"Hi, daddy!" Max giggles some more and Dean swears his chest explodes for the millionth time in just a day. He called him daddy. Nothing has ever sounded better to him.

Sam's eyes look over Max quickly, the man speechless as he does. He's looking at a small version of Dean and no matter how many times his brother told him about the boy it doesn't matter. He wasn't quite ready for this.

John then opens the door all the way and sits Max on his hip, walking inside the room. "Max, this Sam," he says and points to Sam. "Can you say hi?"

"Hi," the little boy says very quietly as his eyes land on Dean again. Without thinking he leans away from John with his arms out.

"How you doing, Maxie," Dean laughs a little, getting up to take him from his father. Once he has Max in his hold he sits back down next to Sam, Max in his lap. "Looks like you and grandpa had fun. Did you get ice cream or something?"

"Chocolate," Max tries to say as Dean licks his thumb and wipes a dried smudge off the corner of his mouth like it's second nature.

"Ah, just like your mother," Dean comments. "She loves chocolate too."

"Yeah," Max answers, shifting in his seat. He eyes Sam over quickly but stays quiet.

"Max, this is your Uncle Sam," Dean tells his son.

To that Max pops his thumb in his mouth. And the room stays silent as Sam is at a loss as to what to do. He's not a kid kind of guy, really.

"Well, this is awkward," Dean laughs to break things up.

"Never been around many kids," Sam says, nervousness in his tone.

"Me neither," Dean says and looks down at Max with a brilliant smile. "Max, wanna go draw?"

"Yeah!" he says excitedly with his thumb making him mumble.

"Try that again," Dean says, pulling his hand away from his face.

"Yeah." Max smiles up at him, his cheeks big and eyes wide.

"Alright!" Dean says, putting him on his feet and standing up. He takes max's hand and looks at his brother. "Come on, Sammy. Let's draw!"


	20. Glitter and Ink (Part 11)

**Two Months Later**

"Happy birthday dear Ma-ax! Happy birthday to you!"

As the room cheers and claps, Max blows out the two candles on his birthday cake with the help of his dad before clapping his little hands together. His birthday has been fun. His parents invited people over to their house, he got tons of presents, and a couple of the neighborhood kids came over to play.

"Here, baby," Liz says to him and places a plate with the first slice of cake on it in front of him.

Dean grabs a fork and cuts a bite, eating it himself before giving over the utensil to his son.

"You ate the first bite!?" Liz disbelieves.

"I was just making sure it was good," he lies and she swats his arm, laughing.

"Jerk," she names calls. "Who else wants a piece?"

Max makes a mess out of his dessert, his face full of cake crumbs and frosting almost instantly, and Dean lets him. It's his big day and the kid can have whatever he wants. The past two months have been nothing short of perfection for him. With Liz and Max moving in, he's been over the moon. He gets to spend the mornings with his boy, work in his shop during the day, come home to his family for dinner, and he and Liz went to bed together every night. They held off as long as they could, roughly a week, before Liz gave in first. She attacked him one night as they watched Game of Thrones and they had sex on the couch, both surprised when it was over. Neither were ready for it to happen so fast but with how damn good it was neither really cared.

Dean should but he doesn't regret their moment of weakness at all. It was sooner than they wanted but in the end they were happy. Very happy. They were still fully compatible and completely into one another. Their sexual chemistry is as good as ever, if not better considering the trust that is quickly rebuilding between them.

Liz leans forward and kisses Dean once, looking at him for a quick second to remind him she loves him. He just grins back, returning the sentiment silently. She then kisses Max's cheek.

"You're a mess!"

He hold up his fork with a glob of frosting on it and Liz eats it with a pig snorting sound, making the boy laugh.

"Thanks, Maxie," she says lightly and walks away for the kitchen.

"I know! You're absolutely right!" Sam says loudly as he leans against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand, happy to have someone agree with him.

"Uh, I'm telling you. The Bush admin got more right than they got wrong," Liz's sister, Louise, laughs flirtatiously.

"Looks like you two are getting along well," Liz says to them as she puts the cake knife in the dishwasher and eyes them suspiciously. She had called her sister for the first time in years three months back, before she reconnected with Dean. It was her first step towards her new life. No, Louise and she never quite got along, but Liz knew she needed to start somewhere. Dean told her once that he couldn't understand the rift between siblings that they had. Turning her life around wasn't a joke so she tried to fix their broken relationship.

Louise laughs a little, her hand pressed to Sam's chest in an over-the-top comfortable way. "Sam's a riot!"

"He is?" Liz asks with total shock, never having though so herself.

"Totally," she laughs a little more, getting even closer to the man.

Sam just grins wide and looks at Liz. "How are you two even sisters? You're nothing alike."

"Thank God," Liz says under her breath as she reaches into the refrigerator for milk. "Same way you and Dean are somehow brothers."

"Oh my, you and Dean don't have a whole lot in common either, do you?" Louise asks with a bright smile.

"Not particularly," Sam admits, huffing a laugh with his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well, you two just keep… hanging out," Liz says oddly to them after pouring a small glass and returning the milk. "Enjoy the Young Republicans of America meeting."

"Ha-ha," Louise says, sipping her red wine and letting her eyes angle back up to Sam. "My God, you're tall."

"And you're very short," Sam laughs at her.

"We look silly standing here together," Louise giggles like a teenager, completely smitten over the man she just met hours ago.

"I don't know… I think we kind of look good together," Sam says, eyebrow arched.

Louise just smiles at him, surprised by how forward he's being.

Liz makes her way back to her son, placing the glass of milk in front of his nearly empty plate. "What!? Where did all that cake go?"

"He ate it," Dean says with a mouthful, obviously having helped the boy out.

"I'm sure he did," Liz winks and wipes icing from the corner of his mouth and licks her finger.

"We have a crowd of people here. Don't do that," Dean jokes with her, the little move enough to turn him on. Hell, she turns him on by blinking.

Liz smiles. "Hey, uh, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"Can you go get the garden hose from out back and bring it into the kitchen?"

Dean's face wrinkles with confusion.

"I think we need to hose a couple people down," she explains, nodding to the doorway.

When he looks he sees his brother and Louise talking, their body language leaning towards each other and voices laughing, he gets it.

"Ah, crap," Dean complains, shoulders slumping and heart dropping.

"Told you so," Liz says with a wink and walks away, having seen this coming a mile away.

She makes her way to the living room where she finds John sitting with her parents Brian and Cathy.

"Cake anyone?" she asks them all.

"Ooh, yeah!" Brian says, getting up quickly to head for the kitchen.

"I'm fine, dear," Cathy says and keeps talking to John.

"No thanks, Liz," John says with a kind smile, the two of them having overcome a lot in the past months. He's warmed up completely to her and can see how good she's been to his son. It's been a good start. He looks at Cathy again. "So, my son tells me he's going to be a tattoo artist. He knows it's what he wants to do and I can't change his mind."

"What did you say!?" Cathy laughs, completely involved with the story.

"I said you better be damn good at it then," John answers. "No son of mine is going to be some half-assed artist."

"So he's good I take it?"

"Very," Liz answers and sits next to her mother. She may not agree with all the tattoos she has but she's come to mostly just deal with the things her daughter does that she doesn't approve of. "Here."

Liz holds out her arm and points to one tattoo on her forearm for her mother to see.

After looking at it for just a second, she looks up at Liz with a shockingly affected face.

"Dean designed it," she explains the myriad of things that make up the piece. "Hyacinths for grandma and lilacs for you. Maxwell's name is in green because that's dad's favorite color and Max and Dean's eye color. The antique rifle under it is a Winchester. And the date under that is Maxie's birthday."

"You forgot about yourself," her mother informs her as she looks up at her.

"No I didn't," Liz laughs at the idea.

"Then what about that represents you?"

Liz smiles. "All of it. It's all a massive part of me."

Cathy smiles small and looks down at it again. Liz can tell she doesn't love it as she doesn't love any of her tattoos. She once told her daughter that she shouldn't ruin her own beauty with them. Liz thinks that it enhances her beauty by telling her story. They may not see eye to eye on the subject but at least Cathy can see the sentimentality and love within this one. And in all honesty, it's very talented, very good work.

"It's not bad," Cathy says, knowing it's the best she can do.

"It's beautiful," John corrects, never one to let a moment in which he can complement his son's work go.

"Well, I like it," Liz adds in, winking at John for his kindness.

"So how long you and Brian sticking around Boulder?" John asks Cathy, moving on from the tattoo conversation. He understands that not everyone is as accepting as he is of these types of things. After meeting Cathy, Brian, and Louise he understands Liz a little better now and feels slightly bad for her. They are the epitome of straight-laced, stuffy, and total white bread America. And nothing like Liz.

"Just another couple days," Cathy answers. "Brian wants to get back to work."

"What does he do?"

"He's a CFO of a local bagged lawn seed company," she explains with a grin. "They've gone national in the past few years so it's been quite the ride."

"I see," John nods, glancing at Liz and she just grins tight lipped. "Liz, have you told your family about _your_ business plan?"

"Uh… no, John. I haven't," she says with a dangerous edge to her tone to let him know he screwed up.

"What business plan!?" Cathy asks, excitement in her tone.

"Well, uh… Dean's been helping me get my act together and put a real plan in place. I need to get a loan since I won't let Dean be a backer as much as he wants to…."

"Me either. I offered also," John adds in to make it clear how much he believes in her and her business.

"Sorry, Johnny-boy. Family and business don't mix well," she laughs. "But we've checked out a couple locations and I might have found a great old warehouse to work with."

"Well… what's the business?" Cathy asks, all excited over the thought that Liz could finally be figuring out her life.

Yet this is where Liz pauses. She doesn't want this day to go wrong but she needs to be honest. She's learned that nothing is more important than honesty.

"I am… opening my own exotic dance club."

Cathy's face drops in an instant.

"I know the business very well, in and out," Liz reminds. "I know what works and I know what doesn't. I also know how hard dancers work and the good, professional ones need more places that will respect them and take care of them as employees. That's where I come in."

Cathy says nothing, just stares at her daughter straight faced.

"I figured out a way to give them a fair hourly plus their tips. Every dollar will be reported and on the books, no shady crap or they're out of my place. I also think that I could get them benefits which is practically unheard of in this business and some of Dean's friends that just got laid off at their local factory job would be willing to run a security team to watch out for the girls."

"And her design plans are quite impressive," John hops in there. "I stopped by last weekend to see Max and Liz's friend Kaylee was here. Saw what they were cooking up. It's pretty impressive."

"And Kaylee would be running the bar for me because she's been doing that for years already," Liz adds in. "I have a lot in place. I'm getting really excited about it."

When Liz looks at her mother once she's done speaking Cathy has an unmoved face. Her heart sinks. She had no plans to tell her parents of her possible future occupation because of this moment right here. She knew they still wouldn't understand.

"Please tell me you do not plan to bring your son to such an establishment if you do succeed in this new… endeavor."

Liz's face drops completely. "Why would I ever do that, mom?"

"I don't know _what_ you do, Elizabeth," Cathy starts. "I don't want to. I just worry about my grandbaby."

"He's absolutely fine, mother."

"And I… just wish you could get a normal job."

"But I found something I love," Liz says to her with a slight hope in her tone. "Doesn't that mean anything to you? That I'm happy?"

Cathy's eyes look only slightly apologetic. "I wish you the best of luck in… whatever you choose to do." She looks to John. "Excuse me. I'm going to check on my grandson."

Cathy leaves the room and leaves a very deflated Liz behind.

"Brr," John shivers in a joke once Cathy is gone and out of ear shot.

"I was never gonna tell her," Liz explains to him. "Thanks for that awesomely painful moment, though."

"If I had known I'd have kept my damn mouth shut. I'm sorry, kiddo," John instantly apologizes. "I had no idea."

"There's a reason I didn't talk to my family for years," Liz lets him know and she runs her hands through her hair with a little stress. She looks at his worried face and melts a little. Who would have thought that the former Marine tough ass would be the one on her side through everything she's had to deal with? "I appreciate you trying though. It's nice to have someone actually have my back besides Dean."

"Liz… you made some dumb decisions but you're still a good person. And it takes a strong person to admit flaws and make up for them. If they can't see that," he jerks his thumb into the other room where Liz's parents and sister are. "Then fuck 'em. There's only so much you can do."

Liz laughs with surprise to hear him say that. "Well, at least now you all know I wasn't exaggerating when I said they were nothing like me."

"No they are not!"

"And that they're stuffy as hell."

"Add judgmental in there and it's a perfect picture."

Liz blows out a breath, preparing to head back into the lion's den. "How the hell did I come from that?"

"One of the great mysteries in life," John laughs and stands up, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto her feet. "A couple more days and they'll be gone. You can make it."

"I hope so!"

"And if you do… then I'm bringing you out to get good and drunk."

"Seriously?" she eyes him with disbelief.

"Hey, I may be old these days but I can hold my own," he says and puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Challenge accepted," Liz smiles at him, wondering why her own parents couldn't be more accepting… be more like John. "Not sure you can keep up with me but… we'll see."

John huffs a laugh, pulls her a bit tighter, and lets her go.

"Wanna go check out your grandson eating his birthday cake?"

John pulls his phone out of his back pocket. "Camera ready."

* * *

The day ends, the house is cleaned up, Max is asleep, and Dean and Liz are finally plopped onto either end of the couch, exhausted.

Dean sighs heavily, so happy to be sitting down. He looks over to Liz and can see a similar tired expression on her. "You're family."

"I told you," she shakes her head, shocked that she survived.

"I know you did but… damn," Dean comments, blown away. "How are you not some stuck up, pretentious bitch?"

"Like my sister?" she grins patronizingly when she looks at him.

"She's as bad as you said," Dean concedes. "Thank you for not being _that_."

"What? You don't like stuffy republican corporate lawyers that are insanely judgmental?" Liz smirks right at him.

"I like my brother," Dean shrugs, knowing Sam's about two years from exactly that himself. "And speaking of Sam and Louise, what the hell was that all about!?"

"I know!" Liz sits up taller. "We totally should have seen that coming!"

"Totally," Dean responds, floored by their stupidity. "They hit it off the second she walked through the door."

"They're getting dinner tonight," Liz lets him know.

"Are you serious!?" Dean asks.

"She told me on the way out while thanking me for inviting her," Liz explains. "Then she said something along the lines of she was meant to hear from me and meant to come here to meet him."

"Meant to?" Dean asks for clarification and Liz nods. "What did we do?"

"I'm not sure but I know I'm not gonna like it."

Dean huffs a laugh at that. "Hey, I'm sorry they're so tough on you."

Liz looks down at her hands. "I'm sorry you have to deal with the fallout of them being so tough on me."

"You're not so bad," he laughs a little.

She just shrugs. "I'm the black sheep."

"I love the black sheep. They're way more fun." He winks at her and she grins. "And for the record… you're better than all of them."

She then full out smiles at him and reaches across the couch to hold his hand. He lets her, locking fingers together, and they both just sit and stare at the quiet television ahead.

"Your father grilled me," Dean admits, knowing he should let her know.

"Oh God," Liz complains with a hand over her eyes. "What did he say?"

"He wanted to know what my intentions were with you."

Her eyes couldn't go any wider when she snaps her focus onto him. "What!?" Dean just nods. "What the fuck!? What right does he have to ask that when he hasn't been a part of my life in over five years!?"

"He's still your dad."

"Not a good one!"

"But he's your dad," Dean repeats. "He's gonna do what he can… even if it's been a while. You're still his kid."

"At least he finally cares for once… even if it's just because he's embarrassed by a daughter with a kid and no husband."

"Or wife."

"Oh, no. I don't like girls. According to them I'm just confused," Liz explains with anger in her tone. "They always said I'm gay or straight, not both. I need to pick. They preferred straight, of course. Otherwise, naturally, I'm hellbound."

The hurt on his face that's there for her shitty situation makes her sigh.

"I can handle it," Liz remarks, moving over to him and kissing his lips quickly. "And I'm sorry you've been subjected to that."

"I survived."

"What did he say?" she asks him, sitting next to him and leaning into his side, her head on his shoulder and their locked hands in her lap.

"He wanted to know if I was gonna make an honest woman out of you."

Liz hangs her head with closed eyes. "We got back together just two months ago."

"And we have a kid," Dean laughs. "He wants Max to have a family unit, one that is normal and white picket."

"And with a tattoo-covered, strip-joint-owning mother and ink-artist father," she challenges. "He can relax on the normal. That's what he has Louise for."

Dean huffs a laugh and sits there with her for a second.

"Bourbon?" Liz asks him suddenly.

"A double," Dean requests and kisses her quickly before she gets up.

"Done!" she says and walks to the kitchen.

"What about you?" Dean calls out to her, continuing the conversation.

"What _about_ me?" Liz shouts back as she gets to work pouring drinks.

"Would you want that?"

"Want _what_?"

"To get married." He hears all the glass clinking and liquid pouring sounds stop in the kitchen when he says it. It gets silent and Dean laughs a little. "You pass out or what?"

"I'm fine," she says and finishes pouring the whiskey. She walks back into the room, hands him a glass, and then sits right back down next to him. "You kinda shocked me there."

"I can tell."

"You have never once said anything about getting married or even wanting to."

"Never really put a lot of thought into it... until recently, that is."

"You mean until my dad mentioned it?" she arches an eyebrow at him.

"Until you showed up on my doorstep," Dean corrects her.

Liz goes speechless again as she stares at him, never ready to hear such a thing from him. Instead of use words she just takes a heavy sip of alcohol.

"At first I thought I was just… nuts," Dean continues, angling himself in his seat to face her better. "When you were just suddenly standing right there and apologizing for everything… I shouldn't have but I already knew I wanted you back. It was dumb and irresponsible but… all I've ever wanted is you. Even after everything… you're still it."

"You're too sweet to be with me," Liz says, a hand to his cheek.

"I know." He shares a shit eating grin before going on. "But knowing I wanted you back was easy. Then I started thinking about ever losing you again. It would kill me if you just left again. I wouldn't make it through that."

"I'm not leaving," Liz swears yet again.

"I know that," Dean assures her. "But that day? I didn't. Instead, that night while I tried to fall asleep on the couch, my mind started to wonder about how I could make sure you stayed. If I would marry you… you'd have to stay."

"I could divorce you," Liz plays devil's advocate.

"You get my point," he huffs a quick laugh. "That night I initially thought of it as a last resort out of fear… but the more I pictured it the more it all made sense. It made more sense than anything else I've done in my life. I realized that marrying you someday wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"You _want_ to marry me?" Liz says with disbelief.

"Yeah, I really do," Dean tells her truthfully.

"Why?" she half laughs at him for the idea.

And Dean just looks at her with sadness. "Why wouldn't I? Liz, you're the most loving, kindest person I know and you came from shit. You're literally the flower that grows out of manure."

She laughs at this. "Quite the image."

"Liz," he says seriously, getting her attention as he grips her hand tightly. "You are the only thing that has ever changed me for the better," Dean tells her with truth and honesty. "I am so, so insanely happy just to be in the same damn room as you right now. I know it took time and I was hurt… but I'm getting over it. And I mean, come on! We have a beautiful boy, we love each other and we know it. Why the hell _not_ get married?"

She just looks at him with shock, voice paralyzed.

Suddenly smiling wide, Dean kisses her cheek and gets up. He disappears down the hallway for a moment before coming back. He stands in front of her as she stays seated on the couch. "Would you ever want to get married?"

"I… I… uh, I never thought about it before," Liz says to him shakily. "Dean, I just… never thought about it. I never thought we'd get to a point again that'd you, you'd ever want that from me. How could you?"

He smiles softly at her stuttery mess when he brings up something serious. She's sitting there, whiskey glass shaking and eyes wide. He knows he's putting her on the spot but at this point he knows what he wants. He knew from the day she got back what he wants. Why not go for it even if it is awfully soon?

Liz's eyes somehow get wider when she watches him get down on both knees on the floor in front of her. He steals her glass and places it on the end table before taking both her hands in his. "I love you."

The way he says it, so sincerely and with utter strength, she melts. "I love you too, baby."

She smiles that smile, the brilliant one with every tooth showing and he's sure he wants this.

Dean puts a hand in his pocket and pulls it back out, holding a white gold, two carat diamond ring between his thumb and forefinger. Liz inhales deeply once, furrows her brow and looks at him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she asks him, the fear and surprise taking over.

Dean just huffs a laugh at her. "I bought this the day after you showed up."

"What!?"

"I knew the second I saw you standing there looking like someone kicked your puppy… I would never want another woman more than you. Never. Even after everything, all the shit that happened, I still just want you. Just you, Liz."

She tries to breathe but can't.

"I'm not asking you this because your father wants me to… or because my dad might have mentioned it to me either," Dean admits and Liz rolls her eyes at their parents. "I'm doing this because I don't ever want to know what another day without you feels like. You may not even want to get married, I don't know… but I know I want you to be mine and I want to be yours. Until I croak."

Liz lets out a laugh at the same time her eyes spill over, far too moved by everything happening.

"Elizabeth Shirley Noonan… would you marry me? No excuses, no lies, no freak outs… just us forever."

Her voice won't work. Fuck! She's trying to answer but she can't. She just keeps staring into his green eyes and she can't get the damn word out.

"You ok in there?" Dean laughs at her lightly when she freezes up.

"I, uh… Yes," she nods furiously. "Dean… hell yes!"

"Yeah?" Dean asks with pleasant surprise.

"Of course!" she says to him, launching out of her seat on the couch and onto him, her arms around his neck and hugging so tightly he can barely breathe. "God, what is wrong with you?"

"I have no idea," Dean laughs again as his cheeks start to hurt with how hard he's smiling.

"You're an idiot," Liz laughs as the tears roll down her face, her own grin bright.

"Yeah, I know," Dean says and pushes her shoulders gently, making her sit back down on the couch. He then takes her left hand and slides the ring onto her finger, it being a bit big. "Need to resize that."

"Jesus!" Liz says with yet more shock when she gets a look at the rock on her hand.

"I got it at a vintage place near my shop," Dean tells her. "I mean, it's kinda creepy that some lady probably died wearing this but I wanted to get you something different…."

"This thing is fucking huge!" she says to him with surprise and concern. "You're insane!"

Dean shrugs, completely unknowing. "I liked it."

"Everybody _likes_ it," Liz clarifies with his obvious misunderstanding of what he bought her. "But nobody buys a ring this big… unless you're J-Lo. Or, like, Beyoncé or something."

Dean face drops. "You don't like it."

"What!? No!" Liz yanks her hand out of his and makes sure he can't take the jewelry back. "I fucking love it! It's, it's… beautiful. But, Dean, this had to cost an arm and a leg!"

"You deserve it," Dean tells her.

"No, actually, I really don't," she reminds him as she looks at her hand, the shiny, enormous diamond just perfection as it's set in a uniquely detailed silver band. The piece is absolutely a one of a kind.

"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it's not there," Dean makes sure she understands. He grabs her chin and makes her look at him, never letting go. "You spent most of your life being misunderstood and being told that who you are is a bad thing. I love everything that you are, the good and the bad. I know you and you're beautiful. And no, I'm not talking about the outside. Everyone see that you're gorgeous on the outside. But you're more stunning on the inside."

Her face wrinkles with confusion. "How can you see that in me after everything?"

"Easy," Dean tells her, letting go of her chin to cup her cheek, thumb wiping over her tears. "I love you more than I've ever loved anything else in my life. You're kind and you care so much… and you're an unbelievable mother to my boy. Max is your number one and I'm more than happy to be number two."

Liz leans into him and kisses his lips hard and thankfully. He's unreal. Never in her life has anyone ever cared about her like he does or even bothered to try and get to know who she is past the hot stripper or the crazy bisexual deviant.

"I love you so much," Liz tells him, hugging him tight and relaxing, fully and totally relaxing for the first time in… well, ever. She's always been on guard since her grandmother passed. She was never good enough for her parents, her sister, her past boyfriends and girlfriends, Jo… but now, for Dean she's good enough. She's what he wants, every good and bad part of her.

"I'm just happy you came back," Dean admits.

"Me too."

* * *

"I think we're early," Dean comments with a smirk, sitting at the brunch spot picked by Liz's parents the day before. They wanted to get one last meal in before they left for home and both sides of the family are joining.

"I think we're excited," Liz says, an eyebrow arched as she sips her half-finished mimosa.

Dean smiles back, leans over and kisses her once, the afterglow of the proposal still running on high. They had a lovely night together with both verbal and physical expressions of true love for one another before being woken up nice and early by the bedroom door flying open and little footsteps across the carpet… followed by a little person climbing all over them to wake them up. Just like most mornings.

"You think he understood everything?" Dean asks, nodding to the very hungry little boy next to him in a booster seat coloring with the book and crayons they brought for him knowing that the swanky place wouldn't provide any. It's not that kind of restaurant.

"As much as he can, yeah," Liz says, grinning at Max. "I'm sure he's confused but its fine. All he needs to know is that mommy and daddy love each other and we're gonna be a family."

"I wan' donuts," Max complains suddenly, looking up from his coloring job with upset.

"I know you're hungry, baby," Liz says. "Can you hang in there a little longer?'

"I wan' donuts!" he tries again, knowing that when they go out to get breakfast half the time it means he gets to eat donuts from the shop near their house.

"They don't show up soon I'm just getting him food anyways. Screw manners," Dean comments, knowing they've thrown off Max's schedule. He must be starving by now. Hell, Dean's starving right now too.

"Excuse me?" Liz asks as a waiter walks by their white tablecloth-covered table. He stops and looks at her. "Do you have a donut or pastry… a muffin even that we can get for my son? He's about five seconds from a hunger melt down."

"Chocolate?" he asks.

"You're the best," Liz smiles and the waiter walks off quickly.

"Good thinking… what the hell?" Dean starts to compliment her for thinking ahead when his eyes fall on the front door. Sam is holding it open for Louise, the woman walking in with a bright smile aimed at him. They're alone, no parents in tow. "What is it, just them?"

"Did they just show up _together_?" Liz asks him, horror in her tone.

"I think so."

"God damn it…. Morning, guys!" she smiles and changes her attitude halfway through her lament when they make it to the table.

"Good morning," Louise says to them and sits down across the table from her, leaving room for her parents between her and her sister.

"Sammy," Dean nods at his brother.

"Hey," Sam says, sitting next to Louise. "Drinks already ordered?"

"Yeah, uh… did you two just get here alone?" Dean pries.

"Oh, uh," Louise starts to stutter an excuse, looking to Sam and both appear dumbfounded. "I just… Sam picked me up this morning to… carpool."

"Why not just carpool with mom and dad?" Liz asks with narrowed eyes. "You're staying in the same hotel, right?"

"Well… right…."

"Morning kids!" John says with a smile as he makes his way to the table with a small, local grocery store bouquet of flowers in his hand. He has on a button down and tie, possibly overdressed a touch, but he looks well and presentable.

"Hey dad," Sam and Dean says together.

"Hello, Louise," John says quickly without stopping at her, her head nodding in return. He kisses Max's head on his way by. "Hey, bud. How you doing this morning?"

"I wan' donuts," Max tells John, his voice getting whiny.

"So do I!" John agrees.

"Maxie, we're getting you a donut. Hold on a second," Dean tries to assure him.

"I wan' donuts!" he yells, getting upset with how hungry he is.

"Excuse you," Dean's brow lowers as he grabs Max's hand to get his attention. "We don't yell like that."

"Donut!" Max yells again, his meltdown coming as Louise and Sam exchange looks of disapproval.

"I believe this is what you wanted, sir," the waiter appears and places a small-sized plate with a chocolate donut, rainbow sprinkle on it, in front of the little boy with a small glass of milk and a straw.

Max smiles. "Donut!"

"Thank you so much!" Liz makes it a point to say to the waiter for his excellent timing. He just smiles and leaves them.

The little boy doesn't wait to dive in, taking a huge bite. With a mouthful he looks up at Liz, his hand extending the pastry to her. "Donut, mommy!"

"Looks delicious, sweetheart," she laughs while lightly pinching his little lips shut as he chews. "Don't talk with food in your mouth."

"Quite the manners on him," Louise says with disappointment.

"Oh, Louise," John jumps in. "He's just a kid. Wait until you have some. You'll see how tough they can be."

Liz smiles up at him when he drops his hand on her shoulder and kisses her cheek. "These are for you."

She takes the flowers from him. "John! Thank you. That was very sweet."

"Well, it's a… good day. And I wanted you to know you're already a part of the family to me," he says, winking before sitting down next to Sam and Max.

Liz's eyes shoot to Dean and she whispers, "You told him?"

Dean just smirks at her.

"Jacka… hi mom!" Liz cuts herself off mid-insult when her parents arrive. "Hi dad."

"Hello everyone," Brian speaks for them both as they sit down at the table. "Louise." He evil eyes his daughter.

"What was that for?" she questions her father for the coldness.

"I do believe you already know," he says and leaves it at that. Louise blushes furiously.

Liz grins like the Cheshire Cat. "Louise, um… just curious… did you like Sam's new dinette set? He just got it last week."

"I do!" she pipes up with a bright answer. "It's very stylish." She looks to Sam and he just gives her a dirty look. "What?"

"Honey, I believe Liz thinks she's clever and just set you up," Cathy tells her daughter, giving Liz one very angry expression. "So, you stayed at Sam's last night."

"Mother, I am twenty-eight, single, and there are children at the table…."

"Children?" Liz laughs.

"Yes, _children_," Louise fires back with attitude and Liz just laughs it off.

"I think she's calling you a child," Dean leans into her and says without actually trying to say it quietly despite them both already knowing this.

"Yeah, I got that," Liz fake-whispers back.

"Good, ok," Dean nods and they both watch as Sam and Louise turn a lovely tomato red.

"Well, this is just a lovely start to brunch," John jokes and breaks the tension. "So, you all ready to head back east?"

"Oh yes," Cathy answers emphatically. "It's beautiful out here but… home is home."

"I understand," John smiles, being cordial for Liz's sake. "Well hopefully you'll be having a great last day to end the trip." He looks at Dean and Liz. "Who knows? Maybe you'll get some good news to send you off on a good note, hm?"

"Subtle, dad. Wow," Dean bitches quietly before taking a deep breath and scanning over the table of people. When he lands on Max next to him his grin widens as he sees the face of chocolate crumbs and he gets excited to share the news. "So… Liz and I talked a lot last night after everyone left. And thanks for coming, by the way. Made Max's day a really good one."

Everyone nods and says the usual things one does to be polite (no problem, it was fun, cute party…) before Dean continues.

"And I know it's only been a few months that we've gotten back together," he starts, taking Liz's hand in his and looking right at her. "But truthfully they've been the best two months of my life."

"Mine too," she grins back, meaning it fully. She's never been happier.

"And I think I speak for not just myself but Liz too when I say… we're over being stupid."

Liz laughs while everyone else stays quiet.

"So… we wanted you to know that… we're gonna make it official."

Again, no one speaks and all people at the table just stare at them.

"We're getting married," Liz says with a serious voice and holds her left hand out to them after concealing it under the table.

"What!?" Cathy nearly chokes out with shock as she gets an eyeful of the enormous rock on her daughter's finger. "Oh my God!" She yanks Liz's hand cross the table and into her. "This ring in gorgeous! Dean!"

"He did alright," Liz grins with pride despite the fact that she's still awkward with how big this piece of jewelry is.

Cathy looks at Dean. "I had no idea you were doing so well!"

"That has nothing to do with it," Dean assures her. "It just… I knew it was the right one for her."

Even Sam looks a bit shocked at the diamond, none of the people in their lives having expected a marriage and a stellar ring like that one.

"Proud of you, son," John says as he stands back up, heading for Dean. On his feet when he sees his dad coming, Dean gives his father a big hug. "I like her," he says quietly.

"Knew you would once you got to know her," Dean says back.

"Yeah, yeah…. Ha, you're getting married," John says, stepping back and holding Dean by the shoulders to look him in the eye. The rest of the family gushes over the ring with Liz as Max eats his donut, but John is hyper focusing on his boy. "Who would have thought?"

"Not me!" Dean laughs.

"Well, me neither for a while there… but I'm happy for you. Dean, I'm really happy for you. You're a dad… you're gonna be a husband… I just wish your mother was here to see this."

Dean's face falls with sorrow, both men missing Mary so much.

"She'd love Liz," John assures.

"Oh, definitely," Dean agrees. "After hating her for a while first."

"Oh yeah," John nods. "She's proud of you up there, dude. You keep making her proud." He wags a non-threatening finger at him.

"Will do," Dean nods and hugs his dad again, happy to see the older man in a good place with everything.

* * *

**Author's Note:**** It's come to my attention that there's possibly a little confusion here. In each reality we are meeting a son of Dean and Lizzy. Each time it is the same person. This is Sammy in every reality. This is the Second Coming as it's always prophesied to be that way. I hope that helps! One more chapter for this reality left!**


	21. Glitter and Ink (Part 12)

**Twenty Years Later**

"So it passes the test?" Liz asks as she and Dean follow the petite, beautiful, fake breasted Asian girl down the hallway of their home toward the front door.

"Uh! Yes!" Mika rolls her eyes exaggeratedly while pulling her jacket on. "Liz, you're gonna make millions with that thing!"

"That's what I was hoping to hear," Liz smiles back and hands over Mika's purse from their living room couch.

"I mean, that thing made me come in what? Ten seconds?" Mika points out.

"Seven. I counted," Dean smirks at her and Mika grins right back.

"And I'm not always that easy to come. Sometimes it can take a while." She sighs with still running satisfaction. "Damn!"

"Well, here," Liz says as she gives her a small, black, discrete box. "You get the first one of the first shipment."

"Seriously?" Mika asks like a child on Christmas, taking the box as if it's made of pure gold.

"Definitely. Consider it thanks for letting us use you as a test subject," Liz says with pride in her newly designed and created product.

Mika stares at her a second before telling her, "I wish I wasn't already thinking about speeding home and tearing into this box to have a late night with just myself right now… but I totally am."

"After everything we just did?" Dean asks, knowing she should be past satisfied.

"That's not a commentary on you, Dean," Mika laughs. "It's a testament to this fucking vibrator. Liz, I promise… _millions_."

"Thanks again, Mika," Liz says as they walk the rest of the way to the door. She opens it for the visiting woman. "It was fun."

"A lot of fun," Mika says in a suddenly sultry voice, her hand reaching for Liz's cheek. She pulls her close and gives her a very heated kiss goodbye. Their lips move easily, having figured each other out just hours ago. When Mika parts their lips she smiles and turns to Dean. "Nice work, Dean." She winks.

"I do what I can."

"Bye, guys."

Mika leaves and Liz shuts the door behind her, leaning her back into it and looking to Dean with huge eyes. "Oh… my… God!"

"She's fucking amazing," Dean awes as he closes the space between them. He kisses her full on the lips and hard, his body pressing against hers. In their early-fifties, greying temples and growing crow's feet included, Dean and Liz have yet to really slow down with their drive for one another. Instead it might be worse than ever. "Thanks for that."

"Thanks!?" Liz laughs, kissing him one more time. "You think that was just for _you_?"

"I don't care if it was or not," he admits, leaning down to grab her ass. "You two looked good together."

"She blew my mind, you know?"

"I know. I saw."

"Holy shit," Liz shakes her head. "Haven't had a tongue like that on a girl in… a while."

"We gotta get her back here sometime," Dean suggests, kissing her neck as he's still running on quite the high after what he just saw. When Liz came home and they had dinner together she casually mentioned product testing for the new sex toy she was finished developing for her product line. He said sure, would always love to try new things… and when the doorbell rang he got quite the pleasant surprise in the form of his living, breathing fetish. Mm. Busty Asian Beauty.

"Sure," Liz nods, knowing she wouldn't mind. The second the girl showed up at her club looking for a job, she knew Mika was going to be a great fit. She's become quite the fixture at her strip cub and now, hopefully, in her bedroom.

"Come on, guys!" they hear a voice complain. "Don't you think you two have scarred me enough?"

Liz rolls her eyes as Dean backs away from her a step. Dean stares at the young man. "Don't you think it's finally time for you to move out of our house, Maxie?"

"You keep banging like rabbits all the damn time and I'll have no choice," Max laughs at them and walks towards them.

"The hell are you doing here, anyways?" Dean asks his twenty-two year old son. "Thought Cheri had to deal with you for the night."

"Eh, she's mad at me again," he shrugs and hugs his mother after not seeing her all day.

"Baby, what'd you do this time?" she wonders, hugging back before he pulls away.

"Nothing," Max claims, looking her in the eye with his bright green irises that are shockingly like his father's.

"Bull. What'd you do?" Liz calls him out immediately, knowing her boy better than herself.

"I told her to chill out when she got too serious for me."

"You're young. Why tie yourself down this early?" Dean agrees with his boy, remembering being his age.

"Exactly. I was just trying to have fun," Max says.

"Safe fun?" Liz checks on him.

"Yes, mother," Max patronizes. "Condoms all around, ok?"

"That's all I ask and you know it," Liz says, kissing his cheek like an overbearing mom would. "You're a good boy, Maxie. Don't go breaking too many hearts, ok?"

"Like you did dad's?" he asks with all innocence, having heard the edited version of their story before, and receives a slap on the arm for it. "I'm fucking around with you, mom!"

"Watch your mouth!" she slaps him again and he puts her in a headlock. "Max! Max!" He just laughs and keeps going, knowing Dean would never stop him. "You're a horrible son!"

"I'm the best son," Max fights back, giving her a noogie and knotting up her long black hair.

"You suck!" she laughs.

"Say I'm the best son in the world," Max smirks, his strong arms holding her and not giving an inch. He's even built like his dad. She's screwed.

"Dean! Help!"

"You know what you have to do," he laughs at her and crosses his arms, watching on.

"Say it, mom!"

"You're the best son in the world! Now let your mother go!"

"Fine," Max says and busts out a huge laugh when she shoves him out of fake upset.

"You're terrible to the woman that loves you more than any other will!" she tells him as she fixes her hair.

"Girls love me, mom," Max says cockily.

"With that shit attitude, I'm sure they do," she bites back and fixes her hair. "Are you staying in for the night?"

"Yeah, figured I should give the old liver a break," he answers, patting his chest.

"Good idea," Dean says. "Especially when you have to be at work early tomorrow morning."

"What!?" Max complains. "Why!?"

"Please tell me you aren't complaining like a child to your boss," Dean sternly corrects his attitude.

"I was gonna sleep in," Max says anyways.

"And miss your first day as an artist? I don't think so," Dean tells him, Liz's eyes as wide as Max's at this.

"What?" Max asks, jaw dropped a bit.

"You have your first customer scheduled to be in the chair at ten in the A.M. Better be on time, prepped, and ready to go."

"Are you fucking with me right now? Because if you are…."

"Never, dude," Dean promises, a hand clamped down on his son's shoulder. "You're ready. I want you to start getting real practice in."

"Holy shit," Max laughs in shock, hugging his father in excitement. "Dad, this is awesome! Thanks!"

"Don't thank me," he tells him, patting his back as manly as possible. Before ending the hug he tells him, "You've worked hard for this, Maxie. And I wouldn't let you do this unless I was sure you're ready."

Max nods, still reeling in the moment. When he told his father he wanted in on Winchester Ink he knew how hard this could be. His father was always pretty strict with him and to have him as a boss too? Scary. But he worked incredibly hard and proved himself over time. This honor feels pretty damn good.

"Go get some sleep," Dean says to him. "Big day."

"I'm not gonna sleep at all," Max rebuts and heads off to the large stair case in the foyer of their five bedroom, three bathroom, 2,449 square foot home for just the three of them. "Wait," he pauses halfway and looks back at Dean. "Who's my first victim?"

Dean just smiles.

"Who?" Max asks again.

"You're looking at him," Dean tells him with a grin.

Max's face goes white with new fear.

"You'll be fine," Dean promises. "I got one of your work ups in mind. I want your first one to be on me."

"Are you sure?"

"I can't have you permanently fucking up a customer, can I?" Dean laughs. "Go to bed, Max. We'll leave at nine."

"This is fucking nuts," he kid says under his breath as he flies the rest of the way to his room.

Once they hear his door shut they both exhale.

"That was close," Dean says to Liz as he walks back to her and kisses her again.

"Too close," Liz says, knowing them getting caught with Mika could have been far more awkward then they'd be ready for. "That was a pleasant surprise for him, though."

"Yeah, he's totally ready," Dean assures.

"Well I hope so," Liz says, running her hands over his t-shirt covered chest. "Don't want him messing with such a good thing." Dean's kept himself in great shape, as has Liz. She does it to be a great face for her dance club and her product line she's ventured into for the past ten years when the club took off. Dean does it to keep up with his wife and make her very happy.

"He won't, trust me," Dean says. "The kid's got good hands, he's a great artist. He's gonna be way better than me."

"Not possible," Liz says, kissing his neck sweetly.

"Do that again and we're gonna have one pissed off son in a half hour when his mother's in her room being too loud."

Liz does it again.

"You're asking for it!" Dean says and scoops her up, carrying her in his arms as she keeps kissing his neck, knowing what it'll do to him. He heads for the stairs and almost runs into his son once more coming down the stairs.

"This is what I have to see just to get a snack around here," Max shakes his head.

"You should be grateful that your parents still love each other, you jerk," Dean calls him out.

"Should I be lucky that you love Mika too?" Max says with a casual laugh as he passes them.

"What!?" Liz asks, her face dropped and fearful.

"I saw her on my way in," Max laughs at them. When they both stare back at him with shocked faces Max rolls his eyes. "I know. Ok?"

"Know what?" his mom wonders, terror creeping in.

"You like chicks," Max shrugs and heads for the kitchen. "It's cool, mom. I like chicks too."

And he's gone.

Liz just looks at her husband dumbstruck.

"We hid it for twenty-two years… that's pretty good, right?" Dean bright-sides the moment.

"He didn't seem all that weirded out by it," Liz says with odd surprise.

"We didn't raise him to be judgmental," Dean reminds her, this being a very big lesson they constantly imparted into his brain his whole life.

"Guess we did a hell of a job then," she laughs and holds her hand up. Dean high fives her and continues up the stairs.

"So want to do see what else that new product of yours can do?"

"Eh," Liz says without much interest. "I was thinking we could finish the night with just us, no toys."

"I can do that."

"_Yes you can_," Liz slickly returns as they disappear for the night.

* * *

"Whoa, easy killer," Dean warns as he can feel the pain flaring up to a point it isn't supposed to get to. "Lighten up there. You're working on shadowing, not opening up my back for surgery."

"Yeah, yeah," Max says, face wrinkled with severe concentration as he works on his first live person, human skin tattoo.

"Excuse me?" Dean asks when his son and employee dismisses him, looking at him through the mirror set up in front of them so that he could keep tabs on Max creating artwork on his upper left back.

The buzzing of the machine keeps whirring a few seconds longer before it stops, Max looking at his father with a wide grin in the mirror. "Sorry, pops. Just needed to finish up what I was doing."

"Lemme see," Dean asks and for the millionth time Max drops his work to hold up a handheld, one foot mirror to reflect his progress back to Dean. Observing it, the shadowing and detailing nearly done, he's highly impressed. "Not too bad."

"Not too bad!?" Max asks with disbelief. "Are you kidding me!? This shit is amazing and you know it!"

"Watch your mouth at work," Dean calls out and smacks his son's leg behind him before admitting, "And you're right. It's pretty damn good for a first time."

"Only took me five hours for a piece that should take two…."

"Doesn't matter," Dean brushes off his son's complaint. "Take your time and do things right. There's no redoing in this business."

"Plus… mom would kick my ass if you ended up with a jacked tat," Max laughs a little.

Dean nods, knowing it's true, and the mention of Liz brings up a thought in his head.  
"Maxie, ah… I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"What about it?" Max questions as he picks up the tattoo gun and gets back to work, finishing his piece.

"Uh, well… you mentioned something about mom liking girls."

"She does, doesn't she?" Max responds without much thought or worry as he concentrates.

Dean huffs an even laugh with surprise. "She does. Your mom has always been… She's always liked…."

"She's bi. I know, dad," Max nearly laughs. "You can stop trying to tiptoe around it. She likes men _and_ women. Not too hard to figure out."

"How did you know?" Dean has to wonder.

"She never really hid it all that well," Max admits, thinking for a second. "I think I first had an idea when I saw her checking out Dennis' mom at that pool party in… I think fifth grade."

"Missus Reynolds… mm," Dean thinks back. "She was hot."

"She was a straight MILF," Max adds on. "Try being a fifth grader that pops boners every second that's got her running around your backyard in a two piece." Dean laughs hard at that one, making Max pause his work to prevent mistakes. "She's was a smokeshow… and mom couldn't keep her eyes off of her all afternoon."

"Your mother has always had really good taste," Dean nods slightly as Max starts up again. "So you knew even back then?"

"Wasn't sure but I had an idea," Max says. "No one else's moms were looking at each other like that so…."

"Huh," Dean comments, letting it settle that his son has known about his wife's sexual preference since he was ten.

"Really, dad… it's not a big deal. Or even a deal at all," Max comments. "Mom's still just mom. Actually, she might be even cooler now since I can actually talk chicks with her but other than that she's no different than she was before I found out for sure."

"Didn't realize how right we raised you before now," Dean tells his boy with pride.

"You did alright."

"Better than alright. We're the best freakin' parents ever," Dean gloats a little.

"Easy, dad. Don't get too proud… though maybe you should," Max says to him while realizing everything for what it really is. "So… did you and mom get down on Mika together or what?"

"You really wanna talk about this with your father?" Dean questions him with shock.

Max looks at Dean with a face that asks if he's joking. "Mom taught me how to use a condom when I was thirteen."

"So? That's important information to have."

"And sex has never once been taboo in our house!" Max laughs hard. "Jesus, you guys _both_ gave me the talk when I was twelve. I told mom when I lost my virginity… the friggin' day after. I think having any modesty in this family is long out of question."

"Touché, salesman," Dean says when he realizes how Max has turned out because of the lives his parents lead. His son is him in a way, sexually active as much as he can be but safer than safe when he is. He's got a good head on his shoulder and speaking to Liz and him about things that would make most kids cringe (sex, drugs, relationships, embarrassing moments) was never a problem for Max. They did alright with this kid.

"So? Did you?" Max asks, now really wanting to know.

"What? Mika?" Dean gets back on track after his brain wanders.

"Yeah!"

Dean smiles with the memories. "Oh yeah."

"God damn," Max laughs. "What the hell is your life, you lucky son of a bitch?"

Dean grins like crazy. "Fucking awesome."

"Damn straight," Max responds. "Now if I can only find me a bi-curious hottie that wants to invite some strippers to bed with us… hell, I'd love to follow in your footsteps with that one."

"Good luck," Dean says with sarcasm, knowing how one-of-a-kind his situation is. "You done yet?"

"Patience is a virtue they say," Max responds, finishing the last bit up.

"Yeah, well I'm thirsty," Dean says. "And drinks are on me when we're done."

"Yeah!?" Max asks with excitement.

"Definitely. Sly Fox is calling my name and Bobby's actually tending bar today."

"Love that cranky old guy," Max shakes his head, appreciating the curmudgeon for what he is. Max wipes up some ink and sits back to look. "Damn, I'm good."

"You're done!?" Dean questions, his excitement not at all hidden.

"Take a look at how awesome I am," Max offers, handing the smaller mirror to Dean as the older man gets up. He stands with his back to the full length mirror and takes a look. The Winchester family crest, something Max researched tirelessly once his father mentioned in passing that it'd make a cool tat, is perfectly placed on his upper back. The shading is damn near perfect and not a single professional would believe it's a first timer that did it.

"Maxie…" Dean starts to say but gets a little choked up. He clears his throat and Max rolls his eyes.

"When the hell did you get so damn soft, pops?"

"Shut up," Dean commands in a serious voice, the lump in his throat forgotten when he's insulted.

"What do think? Seriously? And don't sugar coat it and say it's ok if it isn't. Be real with me."

Dean nods and looks at his tattoo again. It's damn good and having this on him for the rest of his life will be a total pride point for him. "Kiddo, this is excellent work. I would have maybe… watched the outlining. Some of it isn't exactly as straight as I'd like it… and you got a little too deep here and there. But the shadowing is really good." He puts the mirror down and walks to his boy. He pats him on the cheek. "I'm proud of you, son."

"Thanks, dad," Max smiles wide.

"Now clean up and take out the trash."

"Dad… _fuck_…."

* * *

"I take this out and then it's closing time," Max says, pointing at his dad as he heads for the back door. "No going back on you paying tonight!"

"Just finish up, huh?" Dean complains without meaning it and Max heads out to the back alley. When he hears the door shut he can't help but smile. His pride is on overdrive.

The jingle of the bells tacked to the front door sound and Dean looks up from behind the glass counter in his store front.

"Sammy! Hey, man," Dean greets when he sees his brother walk in, his suit from work on as he marches towards Dean. "You taking a break from work?"

"Hello, Dean," his voice greets stiffly, even more stiffly than usual.

Getting a bad vibe from his brother, Dean looks at him with narrow eyes. "What are doing here? On your way to get Ainsley from school or something?"

"Where is Maxwell?" Sam's flat tone asks as he stands tall in front of Dean on the other side of the glass top counter.

"_Maxwell_? Have we ever called him that?" Dean wonders with a huff. "What's up with you, man?"

"Is your son here?"

"Yeah, he's taking out the trash… did he do something or….?"

Before Dean can finish his question Sam reaches across the counter and swiftly grabs the back of Dean's head. With as much force as he can muster, he slams his head down on the glass face first, shattering the counter. Dean groans and rebounds from the hit, crumbling to the floor with a bloodied face. He can't breathe from his nose and he knows it's broken and there have to be bits of glass littered in his skin. His face is on fire.

"Ugh," Dean moans out in pain, rolling onto his side and holding his face. "Sammy… Sam… what…."

"Maxwell!" Sam's voice calls out as he walks around the counter with determination. "Maxwell! Show yourself!" He grabs Dean by the collar of his jacket and drags him on the floor out to the open store front. He then grabs his neck and hoists him up, choking him and lifting him off his feet with one arm and superhuman strength. "Maxwell Dean Winchester! Make your presence known!"

"Uncle Sam…" Max starts to greet as he rushes back into the store, excited to show his work to him. "Dude, dad let me…." He stops short when he sees his uncle choking out his bloodied, swollen-faced father. "What the fuck…. What are you doing!?"

Sam smiles eerily as he looks over the young man. "We need to talk."

"What did you do to dad!?" Max asks, feet frozen to the floor as he can hear his father struggling to breathe.

"You talk to me and Dean's plight ends," Sam says in a way that convinces Max something is very wrong with him.

"Yes! OK! Put him down!"

Sam listens but does it on his own terms. He winds up and throws Dean across the room, his body crashing through the storefront window and disappearing onto the sidewalk.

"Dad!" Max shouts with horror and rushes for him.

"Sit down!" Sam commands and motions with his hand, making Max skid back several feet on his ass until his back hits a wall.

He's pinned there, sitting on the floor of his father's business, and Max's eyes grow wide as he stares in terror at the man that is supposed to be his family. "Wh-what… what the hell… Uncle Sam, what's happening!?"

"I'm not your uncle," Sam tells him as a shiny silver blade extends down from his sleeve and his grip tightens around it. "And you are not the Savior."

"What the fuck are you talking about!?" Max panics and tries to move but can't. "Savior!? The fuck does that mean!? Sam, you're not making any sense!"

"I told you," Sam's voice says as he eyes the younger man on the floor. "I am not Sam."

Max can feel his heart beating a mile a minute with the ever growing true horror he's feeling. He watches his uncle twirl his blade in his hand with expertise and he has no idea what the hell is going on but he's sure of one thing; that is _not_ Sam.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Lying in a broken tangle on the sidewalk in front of his store, Dean's confused and it's not because of the multiple blows to the head he's taken. He's confused as to what the hell just walked into his store. It looked like Sam but, even if he and his brother never saw eye to eye, he knows his own brother would never attack him ever. Something is wrong.

And now that… _thing_… is alone in the store with Max and Dean's panicked. He can't get up, he's already tried. His body and head have been shattered, literally, with the strength of the attack on him and he's helpless.

As he lays there, agony coursing through his system and panic for his son ruling his mind, a bright blue light starts to surround him from above. He can barely see out of his swollen eyes but he can make out that it's brilliant, blinding almost, and through it he can hear a voice calling to him and saying his name.

"W-what… who, who's there?" he asks aloud, unsure of what's happening.

He doesn't necessarily hear a voice so much as understand whatever it is that this presence is conveying to him.

"Trouble? H-how?" he barely gets out, his jaw on fire as he rolls onto his back and looks up into the impressive light over him. "Max? My Max? No, no…. Sammy wouldn't. You're wrong."

The effort it takes to carry on with the light is exhausting but when he's told the truth about what's happening with Sam right now he can't believe it.

"Lu… Lucifer?" Dean questions through his busted mouth, a couple broken teeth and split lip not making it easy. "No… Devil's not real."

He listens more, starting to believe. How else would Sam lift him with one hand and throw him through a plate glass window? Would he attack Max like that?

And then he's offered a way to help, a way to save his son from Lucifer.

"Yes…. Yes, Michael, let me help him."

And then everything is enveloped in a pure white light.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Then who the hell are you?" Max struggles out, the invisible weight telekinetically placed on him painful.

"I am the Morning Star, Maxwell," Sam tells him, revealing his real identity.

"Morning…? What!?" Max asks with all confusion.

Sam's voice laughs out. "You know nothing of your heritage, you know that? Guess it doesn't matter though. Since I'm about to end you before you even begin."

"End me!?" Max shouts, backing himself into the wall further even if it isn't possible.

"I can see that Castiel never told you of your destiny," Sam sighs unhappily, pausing where he stands. "What a shame."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"

"I can see that now," Sam says, crossing his arms without letting go of his angel blade. He stares at Max a moment.

"Who the hell is Castiel!? Uncle Sam, you gotta stop whatever the hell this is! You coulda killed dad!"

"I can only hope," Sam says with levity that he shouldn't possess. "Maxie-boy, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, one that most don't ever get to know. You know that book that man has based practically every moral decision of his life on since the birth of Christ himself?"

Max doesn't answer as he's nearly paralyzed by fear over everything happening.

"The Bible! Max, buddy, you gotta read more," Sam's disappointed tone practically scolds. "If you read the Bible you'd know exactly who I am."

As soon as he says it Max can just make out the shadow of plucked thin, broken wings extending from Sam's back. His heart beats incredibly fast with shock. "You… y-you're the, the fucking… the Devil!?"

"So maybe you're better read than I thought," Sam laughs lightly, takes a few more steps forward towards Max. "You familiar with Revelations?"

"The Apocalypse?"

"And after, yeah," Sam asks and Max shakes his head no. "You, Maximillian, have quite the auspicious background. Your father has the blood of the early man in him, back to Cain and Abel even, and you're mother, well… I know you're father has called her an angel before but I don't think he ever knew just how right he was."

Max's brain fails to process it all. Everything is just so confusing and he has no idea why his uncle is ranting on about the bible so damn much.

"You… you're bless." Sam's eyes somehow grow even colder as he speaks of Max's bloodline. "You're the best of the best and it took my brothers and sisters years to make sure you came about. And I… I fucking _loath_ you."

"W-what? I… I don't know what you're talking about. Please, we gotta help dad," Max worries, nothing exactly clicking for him.

"You're gonna end it all, they say!" Sam suddenly gets loud, his hands flying out to his sides. "Save the innocent and damn the damned! You'll bring them all paradise… and it's the last thing I want."

Sam is suddenly in front of him lightning fast, the blade in his hand pointed right at the center of his chest as his face is inches from Max's.

"You're not bringing this world anything if you're dead," Sam's voice says with a dangerous edge. "And if anyone is going to make his world a better place… it'll be _my_ _girl_."

"You're _girl_!?" Max questions as he tries to keep his composure.

"Yes. My beautiful little girl," Sam's face snidely smirks.

"Wait… Ainsley!?" Max panics.

Sam's face smiles menacingly with the name of Max's cousin and he opens his mouth to answer.

"_Lucifer_!"

The new, booming voice calls out in the store front behind Sam and it makes the tall man pause, his face dropping as Max watches.

"Dad!?" Max calls out when he knows the new voice all too well.

"Damn it," Sam rolls his eyes and gets up, standing tall and turning to face Dean. They both look at each other, chests puffed and fury clear, from twenty feet away from the other. Suddenly Dean has not a scratch on him after the pummeling he just received. "Michael. Was wondering when you'd join the party."

"Get away from him!" Dean's dangerous voice demands, his fist balled and eyes filled with fire.

"You're precious Second Coming?" Lucifer asks and laughs. "He's worthless. I mean, did you even _try_ to prepare him at all?"

"You know it isn't the time for this," Michael growls in Dean's voice, stepping forward a bit as the blade in his hand gleams in the sunlight from outside. "This is not how it is supposed to happen!"

"Screw how it's supposed to happen!" Lucifer screams with anger. "I'm writing the book this time. I'm doing it my way!"

"That's not what Father wanted!"

"Screw Father!" Lucifer fires out.

"Get out of here!" Michael warms, nostrils flared and firsts balled tightly. "The time hasn't come! Leave!"

Lucifer chuckles at this. "Is this were I tell big brother to make me?"

"I will if I have to," Dean's voice answers, his body unmoving as their surroundings begin to shake.

"And go against Daddy's special plans?" Lucifer laughs, ignoring the quaking building made by the archangel in front of him. "You wouldn't."

"To protect Judah, I would," Michael rebuts without second thought.

Shaking his head and huffing in disgust, Lucifer points the tip of his blade at Michael, opposite hand on his hip. "You're a real son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Same to you, brother."

Lucifer glances behind him at Max. "We'll meet again, kid. And it won't be half as pleasant as this."

With that, Sam's body disappears into thin air.

Max inhales hard with shock as suddenly he's no longer pinned to the floor. When his eyes meet Dean's green ones he has yet another wave of sheer fear run through him. Slowly he gets to his feet as he watches Dean's shoulders lower without letting go of the tension he's holding throughout his form. That's not his dad. "Who are you?"

"I am the archangel, Michael," his father's voice tells him. "And you are the one I have been waiting a very long time for."

"Me!? Why!?" Max asks with more panic.

Michael strolls up to him calmly, placing his hand on Max's shoulder. "I have a lot to explain to you. You may not like it… but you will be prepared for what is to come. I am here to make sure you are ready and I will be with you until the great battle begins."

"The great battle?" Max asks as he relaxes finally. Something about the presence of Michael is soothing to him.

"Again, we have a lot to discuss," Dean smiles slightly. "We must get going."

They disappear, leaving the store a terrible mess of shattered glass and blood.

* * *

"Ma'am, you can't go in there," a police officer says as he reaches out for her arm to stop her.

"This is my husband's store!" Liz yells at him as she shoves him away from her and plows past the cops and tape lines. She got a call from her friend that had driven by the tattoo shop that it was in disarray. After not being able to reach her husband or son she sped downtown to see for herself.

The glass shards crunch under her boots as she enters the disaster area. The front window is in pieces on the checker-tiled floor and sidewalk, the counter is smashed, there's a dent in the plaster along the back wall, and, most concerning, there's trails of blood all over.

"Oh my God," she whispers to herself, hand over her mouth, as she's approached by an officer.

"Excuse, ma'am, but you need to leave…."

"Where's my son!?" she blurts out with utter fear after looking around. She grabs his upper arms and grips him. "Where's Max!? And Dean!? Where's my husband!? Are they ok!?"

"I'm sorry, are you the owner's wife?"

"Liz Winchester," she answers. "My husband owns the store. My son works here."

"I see," the officer says to her. "Do you know of the whereabouts of your family members, ma'am?"

"I just asked you if you knew where they are!" she screams out, her heart stabbed with fright. "Where the hell are they!? Are they hurt!?"

"We don't know," the officer tell her and her eyes fill up.

"Oh fuck," she sobs instantly.

"Missus Winchester, sit down," the police man says and leads her crying to the red couch in the store front. He sits her down and takes a seat next to her. "Can you speak with me?"

Liz nods through her choked sobbing.

"We got a call about a disturbance here around three o'clock," he explains. "By the time we arrived the damage to the property had been done but there was no sign of anyone being here. Was you're husband working today."

She nods rapidly. "Yes, my son too."

"He works here?"

"He did his first tattoo today," she sobs out hard. "I was so excited to see it… oh, God. What happened to them?"

"We're looking into it. For now we need you to stay out of the way of my guys while they do their job." Liz nods. "And stay here. We'll need to ask you a lot of questions but we'll do it downtown. Someone will bring there soon, alright?"

Liz's head drops into her hands and she falls into a fit with total fear. The officer leaves her for now to continue his work and she sits there alone, sobbing, until she hears a new, familiar voice.

"Liz!"

When she looks up she sees her sister, Louise, running into the store.

"Louise, I…."

"Where's Sam!?" she panics out, her face red and eyes soaked.

"What!?" Liz asks with confusion, her heart dropping to her feet.

"He never came home last night," Louise says to her. "His boss said he left work early and then… he didn't come home and then I got a call from Donna saying something happened here… oh my God." Louise finally looks around at the store in total disarray. "Oh no." She looks at her big sister. "What is happening?"

Liz's heart tears in two. Her son, her husband, and her brother-in-law all missing at the same time… something is not right here.

* * *

Two days and no word from her family. Dean and Max seemed to have disappeared into thin air right along with Sam and there's not one explanation for it. Just three nights ago she was holed up in her bedroom with the man of her dreams, feeling sinfully good with his skin against hers and his mouth on her everywhere… and now he hasn't been seen in days. And her son, so excited for his first real day of work… nothing from him in just as long.

On the couch in the big living room of their far too big house, Liz sits numbly staring at the TV. She had been watching the news, looking for information on what might have gone down at the shop, but there's been nothing. The police haven't called, the news is boring, and her missing family hasn't tried to contact her once. She and Louise spent the past couple days sitting silently together, not sure what to think or do, and now Louise is at home and so is she.

It's so quiet. Max always made sure, even from a young age, that their house wasn't quiet. When he first started babbling as a baby it was constant and now, in his twenties, he always had something to tell her or discuss. He got his gift of gab from her and she loves every conversation they have together. They were a very close pair, the two of them, and she always held that with pride.

Which is why this whole thing scared the life right out of her. Her son would never disappear like this and not tell her anything. He would absolutely let her know where he was going.

And Dean… they haven't spent more than a couple days apart ever since she came back to him with a two year old son in tow.

Nothing about her life makes sense.

"You know, I gave myself a few days to think it over."

Liz's eyes pop up sharply with the sudden presence in the room. She can see Sam sitting across the room, his body language casual with crossed legs and his back relaxed into the overstuffed recliner that Dean loved.

"Sam!" Liz nearly shouts, wiping her face of all the silent tears that had fallen while she sat and let her mind ramble.

"I didn't want to be too hasty and regret my actions," Sam says, his attitude light and easy. "I've been known to… speak my mind or react too quickly and get myself into trouble for it."

"Where the hell have you been!?" Liz asks loudly. "Where's Max and Dean!?"

"But I know now that what I want to do was the right thing," Sam explains, ignoring her questions. "Always go with your gut instincts, am I right?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Liz questions with bafflement.

Sam smiles oddly, stands up, and walks right up to her. "I'm talking about my pure hatred for you, dear," he tells her and in one swift movement a silver blade descends from the sleeve of his suit jacket and he plunges it into her chest, right through her heart.

Liz's face shows her complete shock as she can feel the steel in her body, pain quickly enveloping her body. The utter surprise has her confused as her brain can't function enough to figure anything out.

"You created him," Sam says in a dark, sharp tone, his face just an inch from hers as he hovers over her. "And I'm not very good at forgiving."

Liz gasps out a few times, the taste of copper on her tongue, but she knows it's useless. There's nothing to fight. She's done for. She's going to die.

Sam pulls the blade from her chest as he gently cradles her head in one large hand and lays her down onto her side on the couch, bleeding profusely from the wound in her chest. "It's petty of me, I know. I actually respect you as much as I abhor you. Your duty in this life was daunting and worst of all you never knew any of it. I would have been honest with you from the start but… my brothers aren't exactly people persons."

Her vision starts to tunnel out, her eyes locked on Sam, the man she knows so well at this point, and fear envelopes her.

"I'm sorry that your fate was what it was," Sam says in parting, hands combing through her dark hair as he kneels at her side. "It's not fair. My father can be a real prick." He presses his palm to her forehead almost comforting, bloodying it as he does. "It's just a shame that I felt so damn vengeful today. You were one of the last truly beautiful works of my Father."

Liz's face goes slack as she watches Sam watch her die. The last thought on her mind is that she wonders if she's about to see her family again if they are in fact dead like she now believes.

And then the blackness envelopes her for good.

* * *

Flying awake once more, Lizzy and Dean bolt upright in the padded room. Harsh breathing fills the small space and Lizzy pats her chest down, looking for a wide open stab wound after what just happened. It was so real.

"Not as pleasant as the last one, was it?" Castiel's voice asks them. Looking to the source they find him lying on the ground, hands folded calmly on his stomach and ankles crossed as he stares at the ceiling. He looks as if he was just waiting for them to return. "I never liked that path all that much. Too much conflict, too many hurt feelings. And the outcome… it unnerved me. I did not want to see Elizabeth die like that."

Making eye contact, Lizzy and Dean are speechless after that one. Everything was so difficult, so intense… they loved so hard and lost everything due to their blindness. They lost it all, including their boy_. Most importantly_ their boy.

Silently, Lizzy's back hunches over as she covers her face with her hands. Instantly she's crying, her back hitching as the sobs rule over her all too easily. Everything she just saw and felt was so intense and so awful, especially after the vision of their possible existence that came before it with an equally terrifying outcome, that she can't function just yet. It's overwhelming.

"Jesus, Cass," Dean spits out as he's on his feet right away. He marches for Lizzy while evil-eyeing the angel. Once he reaches her he sits down facing her straight on and pulls her hands away from her face. "L, it's not real."

"It could've been," she cries and looks up at him for just a second before launching at him. She winds her arms around his neck as tightly as she can, probably hurting him, and holds him flush against herself as she needs comfort of any kind at this point. "Dean, we can't let this happen to our Sammy."

"We won't," Dean determinedly tells her despite both paths they've seen leading to the same sad outcome. "I would never let that happen to him."

"Oh God, our boy," she cries, all she can think about being the fact that her son will be taken from her.

"L, that's not gonna happen," Dean promises her. "Never. We know too much." He combs through the hair behind her head to help sooth her, feeling just terrible whenever she gets this way. Maybe in reality they aren't good but when she needs him he will always be there. When he glances over at Castiel he's still just looking to the ceiling while lying on the floor. "You done yet?"

"Did you see what I am trying to show you?" Castiel wonders, turning his head to look at the two holding tightly to one another with high hopes.

"We saw a whole fucking lot. We've seen enough," Dean assures him.

"I am not certain that's true," Castiel tells him without much faith.

"Dude, knock it off." Dean's angry expression paired with the way he silently gestures to Lizzy's current state lets Castiel know he doesn't want this anymore… for Lizzy. He seems less than concerned about his own mental state through this. "Just let us outta here."

Castiel sighs but remains silent. They're getting closer but they aren't there yet.

"I want to see my son," Lizzy chokes out and sits back away from Dean. After those paths she's feeling protective and frightened. She just wants to see her boy. "Cassie, bring me to Sammy. Please."

"He's fine, Elizabeth. Do not worry," Castiel promises.

"I don't know that he's fine. Just let me see him."

"You can trust me…."

"No I can't! Not right now!" Lizzy wipes her eyes. "I just want to see my son. Please."

"You can see him when I know you've come to understand what it is you need to understand."

"Thanks Yoda, but we want off of Dagobah," Dean spits out, getting angry now. "L's had enough and I'm pretty over this mind fuck myself."

"What have you learned then?" Castiel asks, sitting up and facing them with folded legs and face concentrated.

"I've learned that my son is doomed," Lizzy cries slightly, still upset. "And now I just want to see him."

"He is not doomed," Castiel smiles warmly. "And that is not what I wanted you to learn."

"You wanna drop a hint then?" Dean asks, sitting next to Lizzy, his eye constantly shifting onto her to see that she's alright.

"There was something in common with these realities. Something very important, something you need to recognize."

"What?" Lizzy asks.

The angel's smile is gone. They don't get it. "You're still not seeing it."

"All I'm seeing is Sammy getting screwed over by you dickbags and your fate for him. And that ain't happening in this reality so you can shove this whole experiment right up your feathery ass," Dean fires out when he can't hold the anger back anymore. He then holds out his hand to the angel, stopping him before Castiel can even move, knowing what could come next. "We're done."

"You really aren't," Castiel says, voice dropping.

"Please, Cassie. Just let us see Sammy," Lizzy begs. "We just want out to see him."

"Time is not passing as we remain in this room," Castiel informs them. "He is safe. He is with Sam and Lou. You have nothing to fear."

"It's not fear!" Lizzy now shouts at him. "It's… I had to watch him get taken from me twice! I just want to see him! I'm his mother!"

Castiel smiles oddly again. "He will be right where you left him. You need to see something else instead."

"No!" Dean stands up and moves to block her from the angel. "We're done."

"No," Castiel shakes his head and snaps his finger. Dean drops to the ground hard as Lizzy falls onto her back, both completely out once more. Castiel has a plan for them and he won't stop until they get it. "You're not.


	22. The Promise of the West (Part 1)

**Author's Note: Before we get going on this new reality, I need to take a moment to explain just a couple things. **

** 1) I did a ton of research on this! I made everything as accurate as I could within the time this takes place. If there are inaccuracies I apologize ahead of time.**

** 2) I'm sorry if the written dialogue is hard to read at first. If you sound out some of it or say it aloud I'm sure it'll make more sense. In time it'll get easier.**

** 3) Most importantly, I have to give credit where credit is due. This whole reality is inspired greatly by the story 'Down By the Water' by Cas-Wings here on FanFic. Very rarely will I read a slash story but considering I read SPN fanfic I don't really have a choice now and then! I took a chance on this one and was so happy I did. It's an honestly sweet and trying story about two people falling in love. If you don't mind a little Destiel... done tastefully!... then give it a whirl. Cas-Wings is quite talented. **

* * *

**Early April, 1867**

Bringing his old, rickety wagon to a slow as he comes up to the general store, he takes a look at the steadily growing town. Every time he comes in he swears there's a few more people in the street and another new building completed and he has to wonder how big this little town of there is going to get. He jumps down from his seat and precedes to hitch his two horses to the post out front. Around him is constant hammering and sawing, the town of Sioux Falls growing at such a rapid rate it's only a matter of time before the population grows so high that the demand for food is high along with it. Damn good thing he's a farmer. Everyone needs to eat, don't they? It's good to be needed.

He pets his horses one at a time before fetching some water for them. Once they're taken care of after the hour long ride to town, Dean heads into the store to stock up. It's that time of year again. The end of April always means planting season and early April means time to stock up on seed.

"Ya here ta loiter or ya actually makin' a purchase today?" the general store owner asks without even looking up at Dean, his head in his leger behind the counter. He can hear the boot falls loud and clear on the rough wooden floor of the store and he knows that gait without even looking. "'Cause the last few times ya been showin' up here ya been a real hard case."

"Hobble yer lip, old man," Dean smirks as he walks right up to the older gentleman without taking offence. "Ya know I'm good ta fork over some coin this time a' year."

When the man looks up from his ledger Dean grins wide, going full wattage.

"Well then get a wiggle on, boy. I ain't 'bout ta be growin' younger. How much ya needin'?"

"Got the same amount 'a land as last year so what ya gave me then is just right."

"Ya remember how much?" he asks, scratching at his overgrown beard.

"Yer the smart one, Bobby-boy," Dean winks.

"Lemme have a look see then," Bobby grumbles and walks to the wall behind him, pulling an old, heavy ledger from the wall and flipping through the pages. He finds Dean's previous year order within a couple minutes. "Yer in luck, Mr. Winchester. Got enough fer ya in shop."

"Bully," Dean says, slapping an excited hand down on the wooden counter with his good fortune.

"Gonna cost ya more this year though."

"Well, seein' as yer the only store in town with seed ya got the bulge on me," he mentions as he pulls a leather sack from his belt, the sound of coins jingling as he does.

"Yer good for it," Bobby points at him, knowing full well Dean had a good year last year and was quite prosperous with his harvest. He writes the transaction into his big book before sliding it across to Dean.

The younger man reads it over. "Ah, still givin' me that deal fer bein' a dashing fellow I see."

"Yeah, an' for never havin' shoved the queer at me. I can trust ya, that's all."

"Always," Dean promises, counting out his money and placing it atop the book. He signs the page and slides it back.

"Nice doin' business wit ya," Bobby flatly responds.

"Ya'd miss my face if'n I didn't do so damn much business wit a cocksucker like you."

"Ya can load up around back when yer ready an' all. An' git to it soon. Mouth like yours'll scare all the lady folk away from here."

Dean laughs at the insult and turns to leave.

"Hold up a tick," Bobby calls out to him, remembering something. "Before ya head on out ya mind lending a hand in town?"

"What's a foot?" Dean wonders, forehead wrinkled.

"Some wagon accident," he explains. "Caught word early this mornin'. Some group passin' through from the Old States had a mishap. A poor soul died when his wagon tipped middle river ford."

Dean takes a step closer to the counter, the news quite terrible.

"Need help diggin' a grave an' buryin' the guy for his poor widow."

"He was married?" Dean asks with pain.

"Yeah. Lucky they ain't never had youngins yet…" Bobby comments sadly. "I got a couple guys out in the graveyard already workin' on it."

"I'll go meet 'em up," Dean nods, ready to help after such a tragedy.

"I'll hold yer seed out back 'til yer done."

"Thank ya'," Dean says. "And if'n this take too long I'll be stoppin' fer the night. I'll catch ya at Meeker's I would reckon."

"Got a seat in the shape a' my ass there, don't I?"

Dean tips his hat at Bobby and leaves the store, keeping his horses hitched out front for now in order to help out with the burial.

* * *

She can't believe this is happening. This _cannot_ be happening.

All the promise of the West, the excitement of a new life away from the war-torn East and away from the scrutinizing and severe expectations her parents held for them. Away from it all and starting fresh together.

And it's gone in the blink of an eye… along with her husband.

Right after she and Jackson got married they left the states to head out to the territories. She wanted to see the opposite shore, see the unspoiled-as-of-yet country and make it her own. They would find land, make a home, make a family, be quietly happy in the way they chose, not the way their parents chose.

But without Jackson how can she do that?

She doesn't hear the local preacher speak as her blurry eyes witness the pine box getting lowered into the ground. She doesn't even hear the locals wish their best on her as the dirt is shoveled back over him, kind words from total strangers. What finally does come through in the sound of one voice saying her name strongly to get her attention.

"Missus Hall?" the tone asks cautiously and she looks away from the now filled in grave, a wooden cross crudely stuck into the ground to mark where her beloved husband is resting.

"Yes?" she asks, turning and looking at the man standing to her side. He has his hat nervously in his hands, his forehead dirty and sweaty. She recognizes him as one of the kind townsmen that helped bury her Jackson.

"Uh, h-howdy," he stutters a bit, his eyes shifting around with nervousness. "I wanted ta tell ya how sorry I am. Fer yer loss."

"Oh, yes… well, thank you. Kindly. And thank you for your help today." She wipes her eyes with her hand, her handkerchief gone to the cold river waters along with nearly everything else she's ever owned. Ellen, a lovely woman, rough around the edges as she might be, sent her employees to gather her few saved items and send them to her inn where she told her she could stay free of charge. She slept there last night… well, not slept there really. She couldn't catch a wink.

Dean reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his own red handkerchief and holds it out to her.

"Thank you," she says and takes a deep breath as she blots her eyes.

"I'm sure it's nothin' a proper woman like you is used ta," he comments in an apology as he observes her. Her clothes, her posture, her accent and manners… she's well enough off, he can tell.

"It's more than fine, I assure you," she answers back, appreciating the gesture immensely. The words of sympathy have sounded so hollow all day but this man's actions are already better than every sorry she's heard.

"Alright then," Dean nods, swallowing hard and preparing to ask the one question he needs to ask. "Ma'am, this may be inappropriate timin' so please excuse my lack a' charm here as I'm not much a' one for niceties an' all but… may I be askin' 'bout what ya be doin' now… now that it's just you."

Her face drops with anger, taking him as purely rude for such a question. "No you may not. The dirt hasn't even settled over my husband's body…."

"No, um… no, I…" Dean tries to overcome his slip up quickly. "No, no. What I, I mean ta say is… you still plannin' ta head out west or maybe go back home? 'Cause they all been sayin' that ya lost everythin' an' if yer short on funds an' what not… I'd like ta maybe make ya a deal."

Elizabeth blinks a few times and realizes she doesn't have a plan at all. Everything was just too shocking and jarringly sudden to really think through her options. "I… I don't know. I haven't really… um…."

When she looks about ready to start crying again Dean cuts in before she can.

"Please don't," he says with a sad smile, not liking the look of sorrow all over her. "I mean, this may be abrupt here, an' if yer thinkin' I'm shootin' my mouth off please let me assure ya I ain't tryin' ta… but I need help."

She looks at him funny.

"My farm," he clarifies. "It's just me an' my brother out on our land. It's plantin' season an' we could use the help wit the house an' the animals while we focus our talents on the wheat fields. We'd pay a fair wage, house an' feed ya… ya could get yer footin' while we git the work from ya."

Elizabeth closes her eyes. "I, um… I don't know…"

"Please, take yer time," Dean backs up a step. "I know this can't be none too easy on ya an' here I am speakin' work wit ya. I apologize."

"I accept your apology," Elizabeth responds, seeing the man as kind now that she understands him.

"So, I'm stopping fer the night, stayin' at the inn."

"As am I," she informs him.

"I'll come fer ya tomorrow then," Dean smiles slightly, trying to be polite. "If after ya think it over ya wanna work, make some money so ya can move on, then my brother an' me would love ta have ya. If not then I'll understand all the same. No harm done." She nods solemnly once and Dean nods back, putting his hat back on. "An' again, I'm mighty sorry fer ya loss." He adjusts his brim and walks off towards the town and he leaves her out there alone.

The second he's gone she walks to the disturbed dirt covering the body of her husband. Now that everyone, every stranger from the town she doesn't know, is gone she lets her knees crumble under her sorrow and she falls to the ground. For the next several hours she sits there silently, her heart in utter agony as she cries, the loss so great she's not sure how she'll move on.

* * *

"He was full as a tick, staggerin' 'round the street an' hollerin' 'bout the best pussy he done ever felt like a damn banshee," Dean laughs out hardily, his fist pounding onto the round tabletop with pure delight at the recollection. "I swear I damn near pissed myself at it."

"And here I was thinkin' you was the one most likely ta get half over seas of the two of ya." Bobby grins gruffly as they enjoy a night at Meeker's Saloon, their personal choice of the two watering holes in town.

"I am!" Dean loudly answers with drunkenness. "But even the best a' the good ol' boys git a little blue sometimes."

"He's had a tough couple a' years, I'll give him that."

"Yeah…" Dean sadly answers, knowing his brother only gets truly drunk when he's completely down on his life. "But he's been better as a' late. Spirits up an' all."

"Good ta hear," Bobby nods at Dean, killing the last of his whiskey and standing up. "Gone be needin' more 'an a couple shots tonight." He grabs a silver coin from the pile on the table sitting next to Dean.

"That's only 'cause I'm buyin', ya chiseler!" he shouts back, too drunk to care about anything but the fact that he's having fun. Dean's a farmer. His life day to day is manual labor intensive and quite repetitive. When he comes into town and has the spare cash he loves to tie on a good one and spend time with his friend Bobby. And sometimes patronize a lovely lady of the night, of course.

"Well, if'n it ain't Dean Winchester."

Turning to look at whoever just called his name, Dean sees Joanna walking towards him, her hips swaying in her heavy dress as she eyes him with excitement. He can practically see the dollar signs ringing up in her mind as she looks him over.

"An' if'n it ain't my girl, Joanna Beth," he responds as smoothly as he can, pushing his chair back from the table to let her sit into his lap. She does so, her petite body easily fitting and her arms around his neck instantly. There's a bright smile on her lips. "Ain't ya lookin' just lovely tonight."

"Ain't ya as sweet as ever," she quips right back, her fingers outlining the brim of his cowboy hat. "What brings ya ta town?"

"Seed," Dean smirks. "'Bout time ta do some plantin'."

Joanna's eyes go dark. "You wantin' ta _plant_ some _seed_, Dean Winchester?"

He looks at her with excitement, loving the way her dirty mind works. There's a reason she's the most successful whore in Sioux Falls… and most expensive.

"Reckon I might be," Dean jests right back, letting her know he's interested.

"But not until he's done drank his ass under wit me," Bobby cuts in as he retakes his seat, plopping a shot of whiskey in front of Dean.

"It's true," Dean picks it up and tips his glass at his friend. "I vowed ta out-do this cocksucker wit the oh-be-joyful tonight." He then takes a swig. "Gonna have ta wait yer turn, darlin'."

"Yer awful lucky that I'mma patient gal," Joanna returns with, promising to be around later.

Dean starts to make a remark about how he'll make sure he's in working order for her later on when he spots a woman enter the saloon. It isn't common that at this time of night there'd be a female bar patron about. It's rare a female comes into this establishment at all unless she's there to make a quick buck the hard way so it catches his eye and several other's eyes quickly.

And he recognizes her immediately.

"Pardon," Dean says to Joanna and lifts her off his lap. Without another word he walks to the bar, stopping to stand next to the woman he offered a job to just this afternoon.

"Whiskey please, sir," she says in her eastern-southern drawl to the bartender. The man hesitates when he sees a fairly proper looking woman in his bar near midnight ordering a drink but he says nothing of it, grabbing the whiskey bottle closest to him.

"Ya got grit, ma'am," Dean says, leaning against the bar while facing her, hoping he isn't slurring his words just yet.

She turns to see him standing there and forces a sad smile onto her face. "Mister Winchester." She nods and looks back to the barkeep, placing a coin on the bar and thanking him when he places a shot in front of her. "And why is it that I have grit?"

"Most women wouldn't never step a foot inta the likes 'a this here place… but ya just marched on in an' got yerself a dang whiskey." He smiles. "I appreciate a woman like that."

"Yes, well…" she starts, pausing to slam back the entire shot at once. She barely makes a face of disgust with the burn. "I couldn't find sleep tonight, much like the previous, so I am running to the aid of spirits to hopefully put me under."

"My daddy always said it's the best medicine money could buy."

"My daddy never stopped drinking and he always found plenty of sleep every night," Elizabeth returns with before peering at the bartender. "Another, please."

"Put that on my tab, will ya, Caleb?"

Caleb nods and makes a note of it.

"That was kind of you," Elizabeth mentions of the gesture.

"Least I can do while tryin' ta convince ya ta work fer me," Dean smiles charmingly as he pulls a barstool over and nods to it for her to take a seat.

"I didn't plan to stay," she tries to refuse.

"An' I didn't plan ta let a beautiful woman drown her sorrows all alone after a tragedy like the one she done seen," he responds quickly, taking her hand and guiding her to the seat.

She takes it, feeling like she had no choice. "I certainly hope you aren't doing your best to find council with me, Mister Winchester."

"Dean," he corrects, pulling a stool over and sitting next to her. "An' I would never do such a terrible thing. Ya lost your husband. I've seen what that can do ta a person. I'm just thinkin' good company ta get a bit corned wit wouldn't hurt as much'n as it'd maybe help."

"I appreciate the offer, Dean," Elizabeth says to him, picking up her glass. "But I don't intend to make a true night of this. I just need to find some rest."

"I understand." He watches her kick back the second shot with even less of a reaction this time.

"I'm glad," she says, a soft smile that never reaches her eyes aimed at him.

"One more for the road then?" he grins and offers.

"Seeing as I just spent my very last coin… I shall take you up on that."

"Caleb!" Dean shouts out and raises a hand. "Two more!"

Elizabeth peers at him out of the corner of her eyes as the drinks are poured. This man is very nice and clearly motivated to lend a hand to those in need. She's impressed by his deep heart but she isn't sure quite how to read him just yet. He's different… but she doesn't know how.

"Thank ya'," Dean says to Caleb and pushes a refilled glass her way. When she picks it up he raises his own. "Here's ta ya decidin' that yer comin' wit me tomorrow, ta help out at my farm."

She hesitates but clinks her glass anyways, letting him know she's still thinking about it.

Once her glass is drained, she puts it down and stands up from her seat.

"Thank you, again," Elizabeth says in parting, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. "I truly appreciate the kindness."

"Any time," Dean responds. "An' I am sorry. I really am. Losin' someone like that… all sudden like… I'm just sorry it had ta happen to ya. Ya seem like a real nice lady."

She pauses as the lump in her throat cuts her voice off. He meant those words from the bottom of his heart. She can just feel it.

With a little nod, Elizabeth turns away with emotions killing her and makes her way to the door.

"Hey, darlin'!" a loud voice in the room calls out as she makes her way. "You the new gal 'round here? 'Cause I been lookin' for a good, high-falutin' looking lay…!"

Dean is on his feet immediately. He marches over to the man as Elizabeth ignores it all and walks out the door, not needing to add anything else to make this day worse.

"The hell's wrong wit ya?" Dean asks with fire in his tone to the rude man sitting at a round table with several other men. "Don't ya know that woman's just done buried her husband today?"

"No, I reckon I don't," the man answers, swigging is whiskey. "But she ain't hitched no more so I'm guessin' now's the time ta get on with the soft solder... make a real impression." He cackles something sordid and throaty.

"Ya gull dern cocksuckin' mudsill," Dean shakes his head with disbelief, letting the whiskey he's already drank fuel his bravery. "Ya just woke up the wrong passenger. Git yer ass up."

"Dean…" a voice warns from behind him, Bobby already knowing where this is going.

"What, ya already layin' claim to that grand yank?" the rude man questions Dean standing up tall and meeting the challenge.

With balled fists Dean fairly warns, "Fer that… I'm gonna clean yer plow."

Before the man can open his mouth Dean's fist is connecting with his jaw. It's a solid punch, one that makes the thick and very tall man's head reel back a bit. But he doesn't falter an ounce.

Now is when Dean realizes he might have picked a fight with the wrong man over the honor of a woman he knows not a damn thing about.

"Dang it…."

* * *

Early the next day, after yet another near restless night for Elizabeth, there is a soft knock on the wooden door of her room at the inn. She sighs, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Mister Winchester kindly gave her the day before and takes a deep breath to compose herself. She gets up off the edge of the bed where she'd been sitting and opens the door.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Ellen kindly greets, seeing her red lined and puffy eyes immediately. "I hope yer feelin' a pinch better today."

"I shall be alright," Elizabeth assures with a lie.

"Hate to be a bother to ya but ya have a caller," Ellen informs her.

"Mister Winchester?" she questions, already knowing.

"Yes ma'am," Ellen answers.

"Please let him know I'll be down shortly."

"Be my pleasure. You be needin' anythin' ya just let me know," Ellen says before leaving, the woman having been so very nice to her since they've met.

After five minutes of deep breathing to fully push the fit of sorrow down for the moment, Elizabeth gathers herself. She needs to leave the comfort of solitude to rejoin the world outside her room, no matter how much she's hurting. Her nerves alone make her want to throw up but she knows she has no choice. She knows what she has to do.

Walking down the staircase to the mess hall, the room full of people eating their first meal of the day, she fights the urge to run back up the stairs and cry herself into oblivion.

"Elizabeth!" she hears her name called out through a clearly full mouth. She follows it to see Dean sitting at a table for two alone, waving while chewing.

She puts on her brave face, a fake smile, and walks his way.

"Mornin'," he says after swallowing his bite of biscuit. "Hopin' yer feelin' a whole mess better 'an me today. I really knocked myself inta a cocked hat last night."

He points to the open chair across from him with his knife and Elizabeth represses her need to mention his lack of decorum in the presence of a woman. He's making himself to appear quite rude in the moment. She sits down and places her hands in her lap, her form small and meek with her situation.

"I'm feeling just about as fine as I can manage, thank you," she says with her sweet southern-states accent, making Dean grin with fondness for her ways.

"I surely ain't," he laughs while stabbing another piece of steak from his plate and shoveling it in. He then scans the room for the innkeeper. "Ellen! Cup a' Arbuckle's fer the lady!"

"You go an' finish that bite ya got in yer mouth 'fore ya speak ta me once more," she scolds right back but gets the coffee ready anyways. "Between hay an' grass, I swear…."

"It appears you ran into some difficulty last night," Elizabeth nods at Dean's face, more specifically the shiner on his left eye.

"Yeah, well… can't win 'em all, right?" he just jokes away the question. He got it defending her honor but she doesn't need to know that.

"I suppose no, you can't," Elizabeth agrees, her stomach churning with the smell of food all around her. Sadness has ruined any appetite she might have found.

"And yer lucky ya didn't find no difficulty yerself," Dean comments through a bite of eggs. "A lady comin' inta a bar all on her lonesome durin' the nighttime… I ain't never seen that one before."

She looks down in her lap with shyness all of a sudden. "Desperate times."

"Just sayin', 'round here, ya watch yerself," Dean gives her fair warning. "Not all men are as kind as me."

"Back home I used to have free reign to go where I pleased…"

"This ain't back home." He gives her a hard stare so that she will truly understand his meaning. Don't do it again.

"Yes, sir," Elizabeth concedes when his meaning is obvious.

"Here, darlin'," Ellen says while dropping off the black coffee to her. "What else can I git ya? On the house."

"Oh, no, thank you, Miss Ellen," Elizabeth says politely. "You've done far more than enough for me already."

"It's nothin'."

"Then if I were hungry I would surely take you up on that offer. But I'm really not."

"I hear ya'," Ellen responds, patting the poor girl's shoulder. "Ya change yer mind ya holler right out to me, ya hear?"

"Thank you."

Ellen leaves them and for a time it's silent besides the scraping of knife and fork on plate. Elizabeth shifts awkwardly in her seat as Dean eats carefree. She's feeling so stifled and out of her element. This was not where she ever intended to be, in some dusty, muddy town in the middle of the Dakota Territory. She wanted green trees and ocean air. She wanted to be in the state of Oregon. She wanted to be with her husband, starting the family they wanted. She's never felt so alone in a crowded room ever before.

"So?" Dean cuts into her thoughts through his last bite on his plate of steak and eggs.

"I'm sorry?" Elizabeth asks, confused.

"Ya think 'bout my offer?"

He peers at her hopefully, clearly wanting her to join him on his farm.

"I have," she informs him, picking up her mug and taking a sip.

"And?"

Deep breath in and out. "I believe I'll be accepting your very gracious offer, Mister Winchester."

"Dean," he corrects with a very wide grin.

"I accept, Dean. Though I must have you know a few things."

"Well, shoot."

"I'm admittedly not the grandest of cooks," she starts to explain. "I never had occasion to do much cooking growing up and Jackson…." She pauses with the use of his name. "He and I wed just two months past. I'd yet to find time to make myself the true picture of a wife."

"Huh," Dean thinks, not having been ready for that. "Ya thinkin' ya could learn?"

"I'd planned to do just that once I had settled out west. It would be my pleasure to learn and make the best of my employ."

"Then we good." He grins wide at her to make her feel better.

"I also haven't worked a farm before," she explains.

Dean narrows his eyes, wondering about her. "What exactly did ya do back in the Old States?"

She smiles slightly. "I'd say that my occupation was education."

"Education?" he questions, not understanding.

"Yes. I was educated for many years before preparing to become a schoolmarm. I had hoped to find a town out in Oregon State where I could begin a school for the newly arrived children. I'd heard the west was quite deficient of educational establishments as it's still a growing child itself."

Dean's left speechless with her explanation. "But ya were married."

"Yes, well… while I do appreciate traditions I do not feel the urge to follow all of them as it is. I do not see the need for an educator to be a spinster. Being a wife should not interfere with my need to help."

"Huh," Dean hums aloud when she really surprises him. "A schoolmarm."

"Yes," she looks back down to her hands in her lap.

"Yer a bold kinda lady, ain't cha?" Dean keeps prying, making her feel scrutinized. Luckily she sees they will be leaving soon when he takes out a coin and places it on the table.

"If you say so," she says quietly.

Dean stands up from his finished meal and walks to her side, holding out a hand.

"Shall we? I got some work ta be gettin' to 'fore my brother starts bitchin' o'er my absence."

She shies at his wording, realizing that his language is severely lacking in decorum. For now she ignores his ways and takes his kindly held out hand. Swears combined with gentlemanly behavior. This Dean Winchester is a paradox, most certainly. Once she's on her feet Dean crooks his arm for her to take.

"To my wagon?" Dean asks, grin in place. Yet another paradox presented to her by this man. He's got the mouth of a mongrel and the smile of a saint.

"Yes sir," Elizabeth says, swallowing her pride and fears as she's guided out.


	23. The Promise of the West (Part 2)

"How far out is your farm, Mister Winchester?" Elizabeth asks once it feels as if they are coming up on an hour of travel.

"Just around the bend a bit," he tells her pointing up ahead the next mile. "And fer the last time… call me Dean. Mister Winchester was my daddy an' I surely ain't my daddy."

"I'm sorry for my stubbornness. Tradition is set strongly within me," she explains herself.

"I can understand that," Dean nods and looks out to the dirt road. "Hey, uh… what did people call ya back home?"

This is where Elizabeth takes a good long pause.

"Most people called me Ellie… if they went by first names and all," Elizabeth quickly explains.

"Ellie, huh?" Dean repeats, looking over to the woman next to him. "It fits." And it does. She has a grace about her most women, especially out in his area of the US, don't carry. And she's beautiful without being unapproachable. There's a sweet, unspoiled quality there despite her clearly too-good upbringing.

"You… um, you can call me that, if you prefer," she offers to the man that is all but saving her life with the offer of wage and boarding.

"What else would I call ya?" he laughs lightly, the sound so free and easy that it reminds her of her Jackson for a moment. When with her he used to laugh a whole lot like that.

"Well, new acquaintances normally get called by their last name so… Missus Hall is what I would have expected."

Sending her one kind yet surprised smile, he tells her, "That ain't how it work out here."

She nods to that, bowing her head once.

"Yer not used ta our ways, are ya?" he questions while knowing full well the answer.

"It's… different. That's for certain," she says cautiously and trying not to sound too snobbish. "But I will adjust. I promise that."

It's quiet for a moment, the wagon rolling along closer to their destination by the second.

"So… yer 'bout as smart as a steel trap I'm guessin'," Dean speaks up when the quiet gets heavy and he's sure she's thinking of her passed on husband. He hates to see this woman so blue and sad so he tries to keep her mind occupied other ways. "Ya been educated an' were gonna teach children… that's somethin' mighty impressive."

"Oh, thank you," she says, a fake smile on her lips.

"Then yer bound to enjoy the company of Sam I'm thinkin'."

"Sam?" she repeats the unfamiliar name.

"Yessum, my brother," Dean tells her. "He's real smart. Went ta school an' everythin'."

She looks at him funny. "Sam went to school… yet you did not?"

"Nah," Dean laughs it off. "I was the workin' boy in my family. My daddy needed help on the farm when I was just a youngin' so I was his right hand. By the time Sammy was 'round we had money an' could pay fer help while he went ta school."

"So why didn't you both just head off to school together? Since you had funds to and all?"

"Eh, I been a granger from the day I first felt the soil in my hands, ma'am. Schoolin'… that ain't never been fer me."

Not at all seeing the justice in what he tells her, she keeps quiet. It isn't her place to question this man's father and his decisions concerning his family. She knows nothing of them just yet anyways.

"Ah," Dean sighs as he points to a small house on the horizon with a large red barn behind it. "Home sweet home."

Before long they're wheeling down the pathway through the crudely fenced property. As they do a fluffy brown and white dog comes bounding up to them while barking.

"You have a dog," Elizabeth smiles wide and means it for the first time since the river fording.

"Yes ma'am. That there is Cass. He's my boy, been so since he was just a pup."

The dog jumps about when he catches up to them, his speed impressive.

"He's beautiful," she tells him, looking over the Border Collie. He has bright blue eyes and what looks like a smile as he pants with excitement to see his human coming home.

"Thank ya," Dean says, very happy to see a spark of something other than mourning from her. It looks good on her.

When they pull up Elizabeth watches as a very tall man comes out of the small farmhouse. He waves and smiles but once he gets an eyeful of the person accompanying his brother his face drops into confusion for a second. He quickly tries to cover it up but she doesn't miss it.

"Howdy," Sam yells as the wagon comes to a stop by the barn and he catches up to them after passing him on the way.

"Howdy, Sam," Dean says and jumps down from the wagon, walking around to Elizabeth's side.

"Bully shiner," he comments when he gets a clear view of Dean's face. "Been to Meeker's, have ya?"

"Robert says howdy," Dean jokes in answer.

"Who's this?" Sam questions his brother, unsure of whatever is happening as he eyes the woman with him.

"This here is Missus Elizabeth Hall," Dean says to his brother as he holds her hand and helps her down from the wagon like a gentleman would. "Ya know how we been talkin' 'bout needin' some help 'round here?"

"Yessum," Sam says with hesitance, having heard the Missus part of her name.

"Well, I done found it," Dean beams with pride as he gestures to the stately looking woman with him.

Sam eyes the newcomer. He's speechless for a second as he can't figure out exactly what's happening. Sam watches her greet their dog with sheer reverence and total kindness as he remains shocked and bewildered.

"Hello, Cass," she says in a southern States drawl that Sam immediately picks up. She crouches down to the ground, scratching behind the dog's ears and smiling wide as can be. "How are you, handsome? I'm Ellie." He licks her face and she laughs quietly, Dean seeing her spirits higher than they've been yet.

"Ya love dogs?" he questions.

"Oh yes," she responds, giving Cass one more pet on the head. "Had my own back home for years."

When her eyes fall on Sam once she stands up tall, he swiftly removes his cowboy hat and runs a hand through his longer hair to tame it and appear more presentable to the clearly well-bred woman.

"Uh, hello. I'm Samuel Winchester. It's nice ta make yer acquaintance," he holds out his hand to her after wiping it on his slacks. "You can call me Sam."

She takes his hand and shakes, appreciating the discomfort he feels in meeting her. He cares. He's polite. "Missus Elizabeth Hall. You can call me Ellie if you'd like."

"Ellie," he nods and takes back his hand, replacing his hat. "Pretty name."

"Thank you, kindly."

"Yer not from around here," Sam states when he can hear her manner of speaking along with posture and clothing.

"No, sir. I came from the Carolinas."

"Hard place to be from these days," Sam mentions, knowing what the war has done to her area of the country.

"One of the reason I'm here now," she explains herself simply.

"Ellie's gone be livin' with us, keepin' the house an' whatnot while we tend ta the fields," Dean starts to tell his brother as he heads for the house. "That way we can plant more 'an ever this season, till up the fallow back acre an' make a real profit this year."

"Well… bigger profit," Sam smiles kindly at Elle. "How could I say no ta that?"

She just shyly smiles, uncomfortable despite the two men's kindness.

"Ellie, come wit me an' I'll show ya 'round the place, run through yer duties. Sam can unload the seed."

"On my lonesome?" Sam challenges his brother.

"Still a little touch of the night a'fore running through the system," Dean jokes as he pats his stomach and speaks of his hangover. "Best ya do it lest ya want my breakfast on yer shoes."

"Worthless," Sam comments, jumping into the back of the wagon to start unloading the heavy burlap bags. "Welcome, Ellie. It'll be mighty fine gettin' some help 'round here."

She nods and walks her way to the door of the small, two-story house, following Dean.

When she enters she sees that the place is as far different as possible from her estate back home. Then again, Jackson and she would have been lucky to have a place this big once they moved to the great and unsettled outdoors.

"It ain't much but it's ours, ya know?" he mentions with slight embarrassment, having gotten the picture of what she might be used to.

"It's quite nice, actually," she partially lies as she looks around, seeing how in need they are of a woman's touch in the place. Clothing about, unclean dishes, dirt all about the floor… just a home for a couple bachelors.

"Yer bein' kind," Dean smirks knowingly. "So the kitchen is right there." He points to the back of the house and she sees the wood stove in the corner. "We got some food stored in the root cellar. That's just out back, you'll see a door inta the ground 'bout ten feet back."

She nods her understanding despite her uncertainty of everything he's mentioning.

"We got a bunch a' recipes in a small box in the kitchen… uh, somewhere," Dean mentions, knowing she's not really a cook and will need guidance. "You'll see it when ya look. They'll help ya out. We usually do a good breakfast an' a big supper. Ya might not have ta do dinner fer us if we busy. Work through it most days."

"Just be sure to tell me what you expect that day before heading out and I can manage."

Dean smiles at her response before looking around. "We, ah… we ain't the cleanest type so when ya got a chance to tidy that'd be awful nice."

"Men aren't usually the tidy kind. I understand."

Dean laughs a little at that. "An' we got a bit of soiled clothes needin' a good scrub…."

"I can get to that first if you'd like?" Ellie mentions to him, her hands clasped together as she listens.

Dean thinks for a second, still noticing her very nervous body language. "Nah. Just get yerself settled fer today an' maybe try yer hand at a supper. That's all we be needin' fer now."

Ellie nods once more and looks around, biting her lip. She's overwhelmed, he can tell, so he keeps her first day at her unexpected new home minimal.

"The water pump is by the barn. Bit of a walk but it ain't too bad," Dean points out through the back window. "If'n ya need ta wash up we use the metal basin by the back of the house in the summer when it's warm out. Same as fer the laundry. Lemme show ya yer room."

Dean walks on towards the back of the house, to the side of the kitchen.

"Ol' Sammy likes ta read in here but he can use the porch or the rocker by the fireplace now," Dean says with worry as he gathers the piles of books strewn around the room.

"Um, Mister… _Dean_," she corrects herself as she stops him. "If you don't mind, could you leave a few here? I would enjoy some books to read."

"Right, right," Dean shakes his head. "'Cause ya smart as a steel trap."

Ellie just smiles with his repeated compliment. "I enjoy reading."

"Guessin' I got me two Sammy's now then, huh?" Dean grins calmly. "Um, so… I would say to get yerself set up but seein' as ya got no belongings left…" He pauses with the rudeness of his statement. He regrets it instantly. "I mean, 'cause… ya know… ya ain't got much with ya…"

"It's fine, Dean," Ellie lets him off the hook, knowing that despite his biting words he absolutely didn't mean it.

"I didn't mean no disrespect."

"I know that."

Dean just stands there, nervous all of a sudden. "Look, I know it ain't been a' easy couple a' days. An' I really can't put myself inta ya shoes right now… so please, take the day ta settle an' do what ya gotta. We're patient men, we understand."

Ellie's face wrinkles with the sweet words he says to her, her eyes watering. "Thank you, Dean. Honestly. If it weren't for your offer and mercy on me… I wouldn't know… what to do…."

His eyes dart around the room uncomfortably. "An' if ya be needin' anythin'… since ya got none too much in yer possession… ya just speak right up. Don't be afraid. We're gonna pay ya fairly an' we got the money now. Ya need clothes or supplies of any kind I'd be happy ta git ya what ya need now."

Silent tears roll slowly down her face with the offer. "Your kindness will never be forgotten by me, Mister Winchester. I promise that."

And he truly sees her in this moment. She isn't her proper dress and proper way of speaking. She isn't the widow she's become or the brazen woman she planned to be when she wanted to have it all in her new home with her husband in the west. She's a person with a deep heart and a wide open wound in it. Ellie is a good person, thankful and able to humble herself when needed. Many women in her place wouldn't be able to 'lower' herself to a farmer's employ but she does it and yet still holds her head high. She's something else.

"Well, I'll leave ya fer now," Dean tells her while unsure of what else to do. "Sam an' me need ta head out an' till the land we have yet to use since we can wit ya bein' here. If ya need us…."

"I shall be fine," she claims while wiping her eyes with his handkerchief she gave him yesterday that had been in her pocket. "Go. I'll have supper done by dusk."

"Thank ya'," Dean tries to smile as he leaves, wanting nothing more than to stay with her during such turmoil and help her but he doesn't know how his presence would do that.

Once Dean and Sam have gone to work Ellie sits there on her small bed in the small room assigned to her.

She has no money, no clothes, no home and certainly no husband.

Jackson. He's gone from her forever. She won't ever see him again. He won't wake up and tell her she's beautiful before starting their day and he'll never call her his Bess as it was the name she always went by back home.

But Bess is gone now. She washed down the river with all her belongings. She's not the proper lady that grew up on a plantation with her family that treated her far better than well. She isn't the well-educated and highly respected woman she once was. No one out here knows a thing of her past or of the high society family she comes from… and ran from.

She's Ellie, a name she lied about when asked what she should be called. She just couldn't hear another person call her Bess, not right now. No one's ever called her Ellie before. And now she has to figure out who in Sam Hill Ellie actually is.

But instead of do that right away Ellie lays down in bed, fully clothed and on top of the scratchy covers, and lets herself sob as she still mourns the loss of the one man she's ever loved.

* * *

After crying for a damn near two hour stint, Ellie's ready to occupy herself enough to forget her troubles if possible. She knows Dean told her to keep with supper and that's all for the day but she needs to be busy. Busy minds don't dwell on their woes, or at least her mother always told her that.

So now she'd love nothing more than some water to drink and wash up in before figuring out how it is she's supposed to prepare a meal for two large men that will clearly be quite hungry.

Once she reaches the barn she can see the water pump to the side of it. With an empty metal pail she found in the kitchen in hand she makes her way over and places it under the spout. She begins to pump the water and as she does she can hear voices off in the distance. By the time the pail is full enough the voices are close, now inside the barn.

"…good thing, I swear ta ya." Dean's tone promises to the brother he's clearly feuding with. Ellie stops and listens in, knowing she shouldn't but does it anyways.

"She can't cook? She ain't never worked with animals?"

"It ain't as assbackwards as ya think. She'll be a quick learn, she told me. An' she's real smart. Gonna give _you_ a run fer ya money an' everythin'."

"Not lookin' for a run fer my money," Sam fights back. "I'm lookin' for a hot meal and keepin' the house… not unlike a wife would…."

"Get off it, Sam," Dean warns dangerously. "I reckon we talked 'bout this more times an' I can count to. I ain't sellin' myself off ta just any hen 'cause it what people do."

"Fine but… I just wish you had consulted me 'fore you moved a _married_ woman into our home, Dean."

"She a widow. She done lost her husband, Sam, an' she need help," Dean explains, his voice going a bit soft at that.

"And that's mighty kind of ya, I do think so, but do we got the means to do that?" Sam challenges. "To spend our earnin's from last season on a woman that don't know nothin' 'bout farm workin'?"

"We got more 'an enough saved up ta pay us some help 'round here an' ya know it!" Dean fights back. "We got a whole lot of that fallow half acre tilled right up just this mornin' while supper's gone get made fer us. She can tend ta the animals an' we can tend to our crop an' dang near double our profits this year. How ya' ain't seein' some upside here I just ain't gettin'."

She can hear Sam sigh with frustration. "I just think that it woulda been mighty nice to at least speak of this before you made a big move concernin' both us."

"If you find my presence a problem, Sam… I can surely leave."

The two men look to the barn entrance and find Ellie standing there, her face streaked by former tears and a metal pail in hand.

"I would understand it," she keeps speaking. "Your brother didn't prepare you for this and, honestly, it's a shock to me too. If you do not feel it necessary for me to be here then say it, please. I'm a big girl and I can handle the truth of the matter. I would not be hurt by your honesty."

Both men pause and try to come up with what to say, not having been prepared for her hearing them.

"Ellie, no…" Sam starts. "Dean just… my brother has a tendency to go makin' decisions that impact our livelihood without me. I get angry an' I should," he glances at his older brother. "But it ain't something against you. Yer presence here will most likely make everything better if I'm gonna be truthful. This dispute ain't over you… it's over Dean's impulsivity."

She nods her understanding. "I hope I don't cross a line here but if it were not for your brother's impulsivity I would be a penniless and hopeless woman in a town full of swindlers. I would be completely lost and I find his actions to be respectable and more than kind. I hope you understand and can see it from another angle. Please, do not be too upset with him."

Ellie walks away back to the house and leaves the two men standing there.

"I'm fond a' her," Dean comments slightly comically with her standing up for his decision to bring her to the farm and he grins wide at Sam.

"Sure ya are," Sam rolls his eyes. "And alright, she's makin' a good point. Ya did a good thing."

"Thank ya."

"But you need to consult me on decisions, Dean. This is just the most recent of a long, _real_ long line of things ya done without me knowin'…"

"I hear ya, Sammy. Dang," Dean complains as he removes his hat and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. "And after this one… ya make the next big decision all on yer own."

Sam looks at him with unexpected surprise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but yer gonna want me ta make all decisions when ya see how great this one works out," he confidently returns with. He looks back towards the house to see her walking away, her proper dress blowing in the slight breeze of the spring day. "I got a feelin' this'll be workin' out mighty fine."

* * *

"Gull… darned… potatoes…"

Dean holds off from entering the house when he hears the voice quietly swearing from in it. He never pictured a woman like Ellie swearing like that but his ears didn't just deceive him, he knows that much. It's straight amusing if he's an honest man and he is.

Then he hears a crashing sound that gets his feet moving.

"Dang it all!"

"What happened?" he asks and looks into the kitchen to find Ellie holding her hand and a cast-iron pan on the floor, the potatoes she'd been cooking half in it and half scattered across the floor.

"Burnt my hand," she says with anger as she blows on her palm.

"Yeah, them pans tend ta get hot over the stove," Dean grins with the moment. She wasn't kidding about not knowing how to cook. She just up and grabbed the heated cast iron handle without thought.

"Where were you when I tried to pick it up then?" she bites back, the pain in her hand strong.

Dean can't help but get a chuckle out of the bold response.

And the laugh makes her nervous. "I'm sorry for my response. This just hurts something fierce."

"It's alright. Come 'ere," Dean says to her and pulls a chair out from the table in the kitchen. "Sit."

"But the mess…"

"Will be all on that there floor still after I check on that hand," Dean insists. "Sit down."

She listens and plops into the chair, upset with her stupidity more than upset with her pain.

Dean pulls the second chair from the table over to her, sitting facing her. He holds both hands out and waits. "Lemme see."

She hesitates with how close he is to her, his knees nearly knocked into her as he curls his fingers into himself, telling her without words to give him a look at the injury. It isn't proper but then again neither was her language just now. She hopes he didn't hear it all.

Slowly placing her hand palm up into his, Ellie nearly studies him as he looks her over, his face concerned and eyes focused.

"Well, it ain't terrible… but it ain't all that great neither," he announces as he stands up. He grabs the pail of water she had sitting by the back doorway and pulls it over to her. Sitting back into his chair so that he's once more facing her he places the pail of water between his legs so it sits on the chair seat. "Gotta cool that down first."

He takes her wrist in his grip, being gentile and knowing how, for her, this whole thing is probably improper, he submerges it in the cool water fresh from the pump out back.

After a silent moment, Ellie looking around the room uncomfortably, her hand seemingly in a very inappropriately close to his manhood place, Dean smiles. "Any better?"

"Yes. Thank you," Ellie forces a smile and looks down at the potatoes on the floor.

Peering at the food scattered about Dean grins. "Looks like supper was gone be mighty good."

"The important word being _was_ in that statement," Ellie sadly answers back.

"Aw, it's fine, Ellie. Don't ya worry 'bout that."

Ellie actually looks at him with that and sees him giving her a reassuring smile, one that she believes and isn't actually coated in sympathy for once.

"But what will you and Sam eat for supper?" she wonders, worried more about his hungry stomach than anything else.

"Fer starters," Dean points to the pan on the floor. "How 'bout them potatoes still in the skillet there?"

"You want to eat potatoes from the floor?" she questions with surprise.

"They ain't touched the floor," he says about the food in the skillet. "Far's I'm concerned they still good."

"Aside from the burnt up ones?" Ellie asks, a small smirk on her lips with the idea that she ruined already ruined food.

"Even the burnt up ones," Dean laughs out, seeing the black char on some of them around the edges. "Ya gone have a hell of a time scrubbin' that pan clean with all them potatoes stickin' to it."

"Well aware," Ellie grins back, a real grin.

He looks at her funny and with a smile of his own. "Ya look nice like that."

Her face drops with the out of nowhere compliment. "Like what?"

"Smilin'. Ya look awful pretty that way."

Sitting up taller with discomfort, Ellie looks away as her face turns a rosy red with embarrassment.

Dean doesn't miss the reaction. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean no disre…."

"What happened 'round here?" Sam cuts the apology off as he walks into the kitchen and observes the state it's in. "I'm thinkin' supper's gone be late."

He then looks to Ellie and grins to let her know he isn't in the least upset.

"I am thinking supper wasn't going to taste very good at any rate," she comments right back as she watches Sam bend down to start picking everything up. "Oh, um, no. Mister Winchester, let me…"

"Ya look like ya got your own immediate worries," Sam nods to her hand. "You picked up the skillet without a cloth, didn't ya?"

"Yes, sir," Ellie sighs right back.

Sam huffs a laugh. "Did that my first time cookin' too. It's a common mishap, I'm thinkin'. An' now I'm just glad you're here."

"Does the mess on the floor make you glad I'm here?"

Sam pauses and looks up at her from his kneeling position on the floor. He then lets out a real laugh at that, starting to see why Dean's been in such good spirits today. "Nah. I'm just sayin' I'm glad I won't be doin' the cookin' 'round here anymore."

"I swear it's not an issue. I'd be happy to pick that up seeing as I'm the one who put it there," Ellie tries again, wanting to at least make up for her first day slip up.

"Nah. You just sit here an' get this hand better fer another tick," Dean tells her, his grip around her forearm keeping her hand in the bucket in front of him. "Then I'll fetch some biscuits from yesterday. We can make due wit that."

Ellie just nods her head once more and accepts the idea. "You both are so kind… I feel quite awful for being what I would consider useless on my first day of employ."

"It'll take a bit a' time, I reckon," Dean comments. "You being new ta this an' us bein' a bit new ta a woman 'round here… though we be needin' a woman's touch in this here home."

"You seem to be men through and through," Ellie comments about the state of the farmhouse. Boots and work clothing strewn about, landing wherever after a long day in the fields. Old, used dished in the wash basin unclean. Dirt on… everything. None of their belongings have a place of their own just yet.

"That we be," Dean answers back, agreeing. "Maybe you can put that Old States charm an' whatnot on us, huh?"

"I can try," she returns with, liking the idea of taking two strapping young men, handsome if not rough around every edge, and giving them the proper ways she knows. They have promise, especially Sam.

"He's helpless," Sam nods at his brother as he stands up, kitchen cloth filled with ruined potato chunks. "You can help me maybe but him… ya might be better off not botherin'."

"Blowhard," Dean comments under his breath before looking back up to Ellie. "Don't ya be listenin' ta him. I'm just filled ta the brim wit promise."

As Sam laughs hardily at this Dean pulls her hand from the water to check it out.

"Ya might blister up real good from this one," he comments, putting the pail on the floor by his feet and very gingerly checking out her injury. His calloused and roughed hands move with a gentleness she never assumed he could hold within him, not with the way he acts and speaks at least. "Lucky fer you I'mma rather smart man… fer bein' uneducated an' all, I mean."

He winks at her and stands up, heading for a cabinet in the kitchen. He then grabs a strip of cloth from a pile of them in a pail under the wash basin.

"An' lucky fer you we also tend ta get hurt a lot on the job. We can fix up anythin'." He sits back down across from her and places the long strip of cloth and jar on the table. He then reaches into the jar with two bare fingers and crudely scoops out the thick, white-ish substance. "Pig's lard ain't just fer cooking."

Moving slow and soft, Dean slathers the lard onto her hand. She only hisses once when her raw skin flares up with the pressure of simply being touched.

"Sorry."

"It's fine," Ellie assures him. "I shall be just fine."

He shares a quick grin before grabbing the cloth and wrapping up her hand tight enough to keep the skin from blistering too much.

"Feel alright?" he asks while tucking in and securing the loose ends.

"Yes, sir. Thank you," she responds genuinely.

"Now let's eat. I'm starvin'," he smiles and stands up, putting away the lard and heading for the basin to wash up after a hard day in the wheat fields.

"When're ya not," Sam laughs at him.

Ellie sees that Sam has all the floor potatoes in a bowl and she gets up. "Sam, give those here please?"

Sam hands over the bowl as Ellie walks to the back door, whistling into the night. "Cass! Come, boy!"

The brothers share a surprised look.

When the Border Collie comes trampling through the door he stays by her side, knowing she had food for him.

"Sit, boy," Ellie says and he just stares at her. "Cass. Sit."

Nothing.

"Dean, have you never taught this beautiful dog anything important?" she near scolds him.

"Nah. Cass there is a free spirit. He likes ta run an' live outside."

She gives him an upset look, nearly offended by his response. "Good thing I can teach an old dog a new trick… maybe a few old dogs," she says while eyeing the two ruffian men in the house. She then looks down at the dog and repeats herself. "Sit, boy." She then pushes down on Cass' backside until he's sitting on his hind legs. "Good boy! Very good, Cass!"

Dean's eyes are wide as he looks at his dog actually listening to someone. When she puts the bowl of potatoes on the floor of the kitchen, Cass dives in readily.

"Uh, Ellie, he usually just eats out in the barn wit the rest of the animals," Sam informs her.

"He is nothing like the rest of them barn animals," Ellie responds with slight anger, petting his head quickly. When he growls at her when she comes near his food she scolds him. "Cass, _no_! You do _not_ growl at me!" The dog goes back to his eating and she can see the work that needs to be done with him right away. She looks at them both.

"He like livin' out there, Ellie," Dean tells her. "He's a' outdoor dog…"

"No dog is an outdoor dog," Ellie sternly answers. "They are family."

Dean laughs at this idea.

"And now I can see that I will be havin' to prove that to you."

"You get Cass to sit an' learn somethin' then I am gonna just get down an' kiss them boots yer wearin'." Dean loves his dog but he's been a wild one since birth, which was always just fine with him. Cass is everything Dean's always wanted to be. Do what he wants, how he wants, when he wants. That's the life.

"I shall remember you said that." Ellie looks him hard in the eye, showing she will.

"Oh, I got a feelin' we'll be seein' some boot kissin'," Sam laughs loudly at that.

"She ain't gonna change that mutt…"

"I think yer wrong, Dean…"

"Hobble yer lip…"

As the two brothers find themselves bickering over practically nothing at all, Ellie stands by the stove and observes them. They have a good, strong relationship, not much unlike the one she had with her sister back east. It makes her miss Louise very much but she is the one that decided to leave home, knowing she'd likely not see her again.

But the Winchesters are good people. They are clearly very considerate of others and always willing to help. Their parents raised them well to be fine examples of men… even if Dean's a bit lacking here and there. She sees much hope for them.


	24. The Promise of the West (Part 3)

She woke up early, getting nothing in the way of sleep for the night. She read until the black of night wouldn't let her. Then she cried for some time as she laid in the uncomfortable hay mattress. She hadn't slept alone in so long and this night, the third one in a row, was no better than the first two. Jackson always held her tight every night, his arms making her feel safe and just so loved. The nighttime, as she now can see, will always be the worst time of day for her through this.

And now Ellie finds herself in the kitchen just before dawn, ready to make up for the disastrous meal the night before. Yes, the men said she did just fine but Ellie's taste buds are in working order. The potatoes were burnt and the biscuits they were forced to eat in supplement were stale.

Breakfast will be better.

Starting with gathering some eggs, Ellie ran to where she remembered seeing a chicken coop out back. It took time but she managed to gather six eggs and only break one more before heading back for the house. She then fetched a good amount of water.

Once she had everything she needed she started with coffee, the one thing she knew how to make from watching Sallie every morning as a child. She filled the coffee pot and added what she hoped would be the right amount of grounds. She isn't sure how strong they enjoy their morning cups.

She then set about frying up some eggs, adding a little lard to the heated frying pan that Sam was nice enough to clean for her the night before. She then dropped some empty egg shells into the coffee pot. She isn't sure exactly what that does but once again it was just something she always saw Sallie do so it had to be a good thing.

"Mornin'," Sam's voice wearily greets and she turns to see him walking towards her, hat in hand and hair wily once the sun started lighting up the day.

"Good morning, Mister Winchester," Ellie says quietly, nervous to see him. She's unsure of how he's viewing her right now since he made it clear yesterday he was nervous to have to be paying her. And she screwed up supper, proving his fears correct.

"How's yer hand?" Sam questions heading for the stove to check her progress.

"I will live on," she assures him that she's alright.

"You made coffee?" he asks with pleasant surprise to see a pot heating on the iron stove.

"Yes sir," she tells him. "Should be ready in a moment… and hopefully will not taste anything like my potatoes."

He smiles warmly at that. "I'm sure it won't."

Taking the spatula in hand to prod the eggs and check their progress, she asks, "Do you have meat available for your first meal of the day?"

"Got some bacon in the root cellar I think," Sam says, heading to the back door to get it himself.

"Oh, no!" Ellie says, jumping in front of him to stop him. "I shall fetch it. You sit. Please. You have a long day ahead." She smiles with forced happiness and rushes out the door.

Sam just stands there, shocked to see her take over like that. He gets it, her first day there not having gone very well, but he worries about her. She just lost her husband. Sam knows that kind of pain and he knows how she must really feel on the inside. Ellie hides it well but she can't be as fine as she seems.

When she comes back in, bacon in hand, she sees Sam sitting at the table with a mug of black coffee.

"This is good. Mighty good," he says to her, tipping up his mug to her.

"I'm guessing that is the one thing I can do right as of now," she jests as she places the bacon on a counter and unwraps it.

"It's a pretty big one if yer gonna be livin' here."

"You are big on coffee?"

"Ya ain't even close ta the truth," Sam laughs. He watches her drop pieces of thick cut bacon into the pan that already has lard in it and sees it'll be a heavy morning meal. "Uh, don't think that I'm nitpickin' you or nothin', but just fer breakfast you might make in the days comin' it's best to put the meat in first, then the eggs. Don't need much lard if ya do it that way."

Ellie looks at the pan and back to Sam. "I see. That's a very good tip."

"So back home you had someone cookin' fer ya?" Sam questions, getting a certain picture of her.

"Yes. I was lucky enough to have someone in my home that tended to my family and me."

"Musta been nice."

"It was," Ellie admits. "Sallie and I… we were good friends."

"Sallie was?"

"My main caretaker and cook."

"Where ya from, exactly?"

"Outside of Charleston," she answers, her accent making much more sense now. "We had a big, sprawling plantation out that way."

"Plantation?" Sam asks, understanding her politics clearly.

"Yes, my father ran it. It has been in our family for generations," she explains, looking at the pan and prodding the food out of needing to be occupied. She knows what he's thinking and considering they're in the northern territories she doesn't know his stance on the issues.

"So I'm guessin' ol' Lincoln really threw ya'll for a loop," Sam comments, sipping his morning coffee.

"Not entirely," she mentions, flipping the bacon. "I had been fighting with my father for years, asking him to free the slaves we had on the property. You know, pay them a wage." She looks to him. "He was no slave driver or anything of the likes. He was good to them and he didn't hurt any of them. I knew most of the slave well, played with the children growing up. Father caught hell for that with the locals, for my sister and my being friendly with the slave children, but he did not care."

"You have a sister?" Sam pries her.

"And a brother," she says while taking up a plate nearby from a shelf. "Louise and Daniel."

"And you left them behind."

"Hardest thing I ever did," Ellie tells him the truth as she plates his meal. "Louise and I… we always were thicker than thieves as they say. She is my very best friend."

"Then why leave?"

"I couldn't stand the East anymore. The war, the unsettled mess it all caused…. My father still believed in slavery and I just couldn't live there anymore, even after they were freed and he was forced to pay them for their work. Jackson agreed with me and we decided to head west, away from it all."

"Thank ya," Sam says when she places his meal in front of him.

"You're very welcome, Mister Winchester." She smiles and turns back to the stove.

"And not burnt."

"Not _as_ burnt," Ellie corrects, knowing the food is far from perfect.

"Fair," Sam says as he takes the fork next to his plate and digs in. He's about to take his first bite and hesitates. He drops his arm and peers over to her plating another meal. "Ellie, I ah… yesterday, I hope ya didn't take what me an' my brother were sayin' to heart…"

"Mister Winchester, don't apologize," she cuts him off. "I completely understand your concerns and if my sister made decisions of such import without my knowing, I'd be in a bit of a fit too."

"Glad ya see that," Sam smiles. "We do need the help, I assure ya. I just wasn't ready fer him to head on out to town an' come back another person deep."

"We are on good terms, I assure you," she promises.

"An' call me Sam. If yer gonna live here then I'm thinkin' the titles ain't too necessary."

"Well noted… _Sam_," she grins slightly at him. Scooping up a few pieces of bacon, she picks up the bowl she served Cass with the night before and puts the bacon into it. She then whistles out the back door. "Cass! Come!"

The dog comes flying through the back fields at top speeds. He only comes to a halt when he nearly runs right into her legs.

"Easy, boy," she mentions as he walks around her skirt a few times, looking up at the bowl in her hand and smelling the food. "Sit."

He doesn't.

"Cass. Sit," she tries again and pushes his hind legs down until he does. "Good boy, Cass! Good!" She ruffles the fur on his head and drops the bowl on the floor, the dog having earned the reward.

"I'm thinkin' he likes ya," Sam jokes after watching the display.

"Good. Because I like him plenty," she answers, walking to the stove again. She makes a second plate and places it at the open spot at the small wooden table. "Where is Dean this morning?"

"Sleepin', I reckon," Sam mentions, mouthful. "He tends to sleep late, particularly when he don't have ta make breakfast."

"His food will get mighty cold."

"Go wake him for me?" Sam asks, shoveling a piece of bacon into his mouth.

"Oh… uh," Ellie hesitates over the appropriateness of such an action. She barely knows the guy.

"It's fine, I swear it," Sam tries to reassure her. "'Cause I ain't getting' up from this here meal right now." He grins and tries to make her feel better about her cooking.

Ellie forces yet another smile and walks to the stairs. She hasn't been to the second floor just yet but she's got a job to do.

Once at the top she can see one door open with an empty bed, the sheets crumpled and piles of books strewn about. That must be Sam's room. So she turns to the closed door.

The hinges creak slightly as she slowly pushes the door open. She pops her head in and looks around. In the center of the small room she can just make out the form of a person under the covers of the bed. The rumpled hair, just long enough to be shaggy, peeks up over the blanket unmoving. And now she wonders how to go about this.

"Mister Winchester?" she calls out in a quiet tone, not looking to scare him. He doesn't move. "Dean?" Her voice louder than before does nothing again. She takes a few cautious steps into the room. He must be a heavy sleeper.

Moving to the side of his bed she catches a glimpse of his face smashed into the pillow. Mouth open and eyes closed, she bites her lips together with the sight. He looks like a little boy, wrecked from a day playing with friends. His face is just so young and innocent this way.

Leaning forward, Ellie places a hand on his blanket covered shoulder. "Mister Winchester?"

"What!?" Dean flies awake with the disturbance, Ellie jumping back a step with the sudden movement.

"I'm sorry!" Ellie calls out instantly, thrown off by the way he jolted into the waking world.

"Ellie?" Dean asks, squinting at her as he rolls onto his side. "What in Sam Hill ya doin' in here?"

"I apologize… it's just… Mister Winchester, I mean, not _you _Mister Winchester but… Sam… he told me to come here…."

Dean huffs a laugh when he's come to enough. "Sam sent ya ta wake me?"

"Yes sir," Ellie answers, just now realizing as he sits up that he has no shirt on. She wasn't prepared for this and she sharply turns to face the wall. "I, um, I… I made breakfast and you…"

"Is it burnt?" Dean question lightly as she can hear him moving about behind her.

"No, sir. Or, might be but just a little," Ellie's flustered voice explains.

"Well, bully on ya, huh?" Dean answers with pride in her, grinning genuinely even if she isn't looking to see it. "I'll be down shortly."

"Very well," Ellie rushes out and damn near sprints for the doorway, leaving quickly and she can hear Dean chuckling at her awkward reaction.

* * *

The brothers ate their breakfast, laughing about Dean's wake-up call when not expressing appreciating for a better cooked meal today, and then made their way out to the fields. They mentioned planting today so they warned her they'd be skipping dinner. Before they headed out Ellie decided to wrap up a couple extra slices of bacon and the last two biscuits they had leftover, remembering this is what Sallie would do for her father if he'd be out in the plantation for the day. They both reacted with pleasant surprise and thanked her greatly for her forward thinking. It made her feel like she belonged for just a split second, a feeling she hasn't felt since that river washed away her life.

Alone for the day, Ellie had plenty of time to either think or work. She chose work quite easily.

First it was tidying. All the men's belongings found themselves a home. She organized their rooms, the books in Sam's room stacked according to subject instead of heaped in piles and all their clothing folded and put away into the drawers of each man's dressers.

She then organized the kitchen. Nothing felt like it had a place, the sack of flour on the floor under the wooden counter top on its side and spilling along with canned goods in no particular order. Once she was done she could see that the kitchen might be efficient now, even enjoyable for her to be in despite the intimidation she feels within it.

After that she swept the dirt from the floors before pulling out the small tin she found while cleaning the kitchen. She takes a seat at the table and pulls the cards out of the tin, reading each over very carefully. All handwritten recipes, copied with care and absolute clarity. With these she feels she may be able to make just about anything without too much issue. Hell, her meals might even taste good now.

The problem is she doesn't have a whole lot of ingredients to work with, as she figured she wouldn't. She has no idea what it is these men used to eat before she arrived but she doesn't think it was considered good. Mainly her concern is that she has no meat to work with that she knows of. There are chickens on the farm but they produce eggs and she has never killed a chicken before, much less prepare one to be cooked. She wouldn't know where to start with that.

So she's stuck. As she flips through the cards the helpless feeling returns, making her upset and boiling her frustrations to the surface… that is until she comes upon one recipe in particular.

No, Ellie cannot cook worth a damn… but she can sure bake.

* * *

"Hot dang, that smells good," Dean mentions to his brother as they walk up to the farm house at dusk, his gloves in one hand as he wipes his brow with the opposite shirt sleeve.

"Sure does," Sam agrees, the odor of something sweet wafting through the air. He'd expected savory scents, maybe the ham or the beef they have smoked and stored in the root cellar out back, but this is just as welcomed.

"Now I'm about as hungry as a horse," Dean jokes with an excited smile, walking to the door quite swiftly while far too ready to find out what Ellie has cooked up.

The second he steps up to the doorway he hears a female voice yell to him, "Wipe your boots!"

"Huh?" he questions back as he freezes mid-step, looking in to see Ellie staring back at him by the table she's in the middle of setting.

"I just went and cleaned the floor. No need messing it up right away," she informs him, pointing to his mud caked shoes.

"Then… yes, ma'am," Dean says, listening to her instantly with her tone of voice. He knocks his feet against the outside siding of the house, clumps of dirt crumbling to the ground as he does, before nodding to Sam in order to warn him he better do the same.

Once they know they won't track mud in, the brothers walk through the door and pause immediately.

"Well now I'm just stumped, Sam," Dean looks up at his brother next to him. "Coulda sworn this here house was ours from the outside but this ain't ours. It's too dang clean."

Sam huffs a laugh. "I agree."

"I got to work today… to make up for my slow start," Ellie explains, standing by the kitchen table with hands folded in front of her.

"Lookin' awful good in here," Sam agrees, pulling his hat off.

"There are a couple of hooks by the door," Ellie points to the wall right near them. "I took all of the dirty clothes off of them and figured you could hang your hats after a long day."

"Where the clothes at?" Dean questions, placing his hat on the long forgotten by him hooks.

"In a pile out back by the big basin. I'm planning for laundry tomorrow. Please add what needs washing tonight and it will be ready for you by supper tomorrow."

Dean just smiles at her, impressed that she's been able to keep herself focused.

"Wash up, now. Supper is ready," she explains to them and heads for the stove.

"What ya make?" Dean questions, peering over her shoulder to get a good look.

"Pardon my saying so, but you men don't seem to know too much in the ways of cooking, not unlike myself."

"We don't," Sam confirms for her as he pours some fresh water from a pail by the door into the kitchen basin. He listens on and washes his hands and face as she asked.

"As I was lacking many ingredients and I did not see much for meat, I decided the best course of action for me was to bake."

Dean's face drops to something serious.

"My Momma was very good at making coffee cake so I made that," she continues. "I apologize for the lack of true supper. I know this is more like dessert…"

"Well I fer one am mighty proud a' that choice you done made, Ellie," Dean beams with excitement, his dirty hand reaching to steal a crumble from the topping of the cake sitting on the stove.

"Ah-ah!" Ellie scolds and very lightly smacks his hand away from the dessert. "Wash up, sir."

"Stickler for the rules I see," Dean calls her out and walks away, stepping up to the basin as Sam walks away. He washes up quick as his stomach growls with anticipation.

"Dean here, he's got a bit of a sweet tooth," Sam explains as he walks to his usual chair at the kitchen table.

"You don't say," Ellie laughs, actually laughs, as she cuts the cake up into portions and plates them.

"An' that right there is smellin' like heaven just about now," Dean tells her, drying his hands with the towel she left them and rushing to his own seat. Neither man mentions the fact that the table's been scrubbed clean and their silverware is set out for them but they're plenty impressed with her.

"Enjoy," she says lightly as she places a plate in front of each. She then walks back to the kitchen to clean up.

"Wait, where you plannin' on sittin'," Dean asks with a fork already in his hand.

"I can have mine when you two finish up," she brushes it off.

"No. No way in hell," Dean denies the thought right away. He stands up and walks into the sitting area, grabbing one of the rocking chairs by the fire place and putting it in the open place at the table between Sam and him. "Sit wit us an' have some supper."

Ellie watches with sheer confusion as Dean heads for the stove and plates more of the coffee cake for her himself.

"Dean, it is not my place…"

"That ain't true," he tells her, picking up a fork for her and looking right at her. "This here _is_ yer place now, fer as long as ya wanna work here. That means yer home now, this is yer home. Ya live wit us, well then, ya eat wit us." Dean moves past her and places the plate at her new spot at the table. He then holds the rocking chair back for her. "Come 'ere."

Looking to the floor for a second, Ellie moves to the table and takes the proffered seat. The second she does she realizes that it won't do. The table comes to her shoulders with the height difference.

"Hold up," Dean huffs a laugh and rushes to her room. He returns with a couple thick books and holds his hand out to her to help her up. He then places them on her seat. "Try now."

She retakes her seat and the level is much easier now. "This is just fine, thank you."

Dean grins and sits down. "We gonna need ta get a new chair, I reckon. Or make one." He says it to Sam who simple nods back with agreement.

Ellie waits for grace to be said but when the men dig right in she sees that grace isn't part of their routine. She starts to eat, knowing she'll have to broach the subject next supper time, as she hears one loud and appreciative moan from Dean.

"Is that a bluff?" he asks her, mouth filled and eyes wide.

"Pardon me?"

"If'n this ain't the best thin' I ever ate then I am sure I got no idea what is," Dean praises and stabs another bite, rolling his eyes as he does.

"I see I found the way to _your_ heart," Ellie quips quickly, seeing the man's stomach as his weak point.

"You got no idea," Sam comments. "But he is surely right. This here is very good."

"Thank you," she accepts, smiling to herself with pride. "And if you men would show me where you store everything in that root cellar tomorrow before heading out to work I can be sure to try a proper meal for supper next time. In fact, I would be happy to."

"No!" Dean denies. "Ya only bake now. That is gonna be all yer gonna ever do. Just bakin' me stuff like this."

"I'll be sure to show ya," Sam tells her, ignoring Dean. "We got some salted pork and beef along with some jerky. An' if ya ever wanna cook up some chicken we got a couple a' old hens that ain't producing. One of us can get the dirty work done fer ya."

Ellie nods, liking that plan.

"An' I need ta' head in'a town soon, grab some things from the store I ordered. You come wit an' we can get ya whatever the kitchen be needin'."

"Can we go on Sunday?" Ellie requests. "If it's not too much trouble?"

"Why Sunday?"

"I would like to attend services," she tells him, revealing a nugget of information about herself. She's religious. "And possibly send word home about… everything. They need to know, especially…. Jackson's mother." She sighs heavily and tries to control her sadness at the mention of the poor woman that has no idea what has happened as of yet. "She's such a kind woman. She has had it so hard…. She already lost two boys to the war and now this…."

Dean's hand comes unexpectedly down onto her own when she can't find it in her to finish her sentence. When she sharply looks over to him with the gesture she's shocked to see the sympathy in his eyes, and not the kind of sympathy that makes her cringe and feel pitiful. This feels genuine and oddly comforting.

"Ya just say whacha need, Ellie," Dean tells her in a soft, kind voice. "Yer livin' here now an' I want ya ta feel like ya still got a life."

"My life washed down that river. That _was_ my life," she says quietly, looking down at his hand covering hers, it being so much larger than hers. She holds back the tears, getting just a touch better at doing so as each day passes and she has to be strong.

"A big ol' part, yessum. But all of it… no," Dean swears to her. "Ya still made it outta that alive when others did not. An' I wanna think it musta been fer a reason. Ya got a lot left ta ya life yet. Don't ya speak like that."

She's completely floored and caught off guard. Ellie didn't expect the truthful comfort that Dean doled out without warning. It was real and so nice… she never saw it coming. "Mister Winch… Dean. Thank you kindly. I…." She stops and pulls her hand out from under his, keeping her eyes trained on her folded-in-her-lap hands. "I'd be without a doubt in a true fix without you. I owe you so much…."

"Ya don't owe me squat," Dean assures her. "You been doin' a good job, especially with this supper ya made. I love me some dessert."

"I shall be sure to try some pies in the fall, when apples come around." She grins at him through her sorrow and sees him return it three fold.

"Ya definitely should do that!" Dean says with his brother's laughing as a background.

"Then I promise I shall," she grins back. She goes to pick up her fork but remembers something. She gets up abruptly and heads for the bowl on the floor by the back doorway. After putting some cake in it she heads for the back door and whistles. "Cass! Come on, boy!"

Dean sneaks a look at his brother, one Sam returns. "She love that dang dog."

"No bluffin'," Sam huffs a laugh and pops another bite of the excellent cake into his mouth.


	25. The Promise of the West (Part 4)

Three more days of learning and holding true patience with herself and Ellie was ready for her ride into town on Sunday. It had been the longest near-week of her life, filled with the monotony of cooking and cleaning and caring for animals… then repeat. She isn't sure that she can live like this at this point, it all being nothing she's used to, but the ride into Sioux Falls alone certainly broke up the routine enough for her.

Plus, the idea of being able to go to church, whatever that church might be, is certainly alleviating her anxiety and pain at least a little.

Dean brings the wagon to a stop in front of the general store, the same place he had it when she first went back to his farm with him, and he hitches it up before helping her down from her seat like a proper gentleman.

"Thank you," she says with a smile, her now cleaned clothing more than acceptable as Sunday best. Dean's usual white shirt and tan slacks he uses for work days are making him look just like the farmer that he is. "Will you be joining me for services?"

"Oh… _no_," Dean emphasizes his denial to make it clear.

"That's a shame," she responds and Dean could swear he hears disappointment in her tone. "God has a way of filling the soul when we have felt depleted."

"I am just full enough," Dean comments before pointing to Meeker's. "An' my waterin' hole keeps me that way."

The face she makes in reaction makes Dean feel different about his usual actions, awkward even. Normally he has no qualms about paying for a good drink and a good lay but with the way she views him right now he feels… low.

"I wish you would come with," Ellie tries again with a sweet kind of hope in her tone, her hand coming to his elbow and grabbing tight as she walks towards the church, leading him when he should be leading her traditionally. "A day with the Lord has always been able to make better all that ails us… or at least lessen the pain. Dean, please take my words as kind concern, but I feel that something does ail you."

He stops short and stands there, her arm in his as he stares at her with upset. "Now, I ain't one ta cast a shadow on people I do not know an' I would be expectin' the same courtesy from others. I reckon you do not know me well enough ta make a bold claim like that." Dean takes his arm back as he stares her down, face of stone.

"I reckon you are right," Ellie relents when she instantly feels shame for the way she went about things. "I do not know you as well as I should to be saying such a thing but… I just… I see you. And I mean I really _see you_."

Dean makes a scared face at her words.

"I do not know why but you are clear as a stream to me. Something itches you, Dean. Maybe a day with the Lord can help that."

He's highly uncomfortable now. "Enjoy ya services. I'mma head to the store an' get what I ordered an' then enjoy my own services without the guilt of a very presumptuous woman an' her judgments." He then reaches into his pocket. He grabs her hand and presses two coins into her palm. "One fer collection. One fer gettin' word home 'bout yer lost one."

He then quickly turns around on his heels and marches off for the general store, his body language revealing just how irked he is by the conversation they just had.

Ellie had no idea that letting Dean know she can see his pain would be such a bad idea. Something, or things, are most definitely nagging him and she does believe that church would help him out. Right now she knows that finding the Lord would do him some good. But the venom in his words and the upset in his eyes was not expected, or else she would have kept her mouth shut. He's been nothing but nice to her through the most terrible ordeal she's felt in her life… and when she tried to return the favor she just simply angered him.

And she didn't expect that angering him would have this kind of effect on her. Her stomach is sick, her spirits lower than low, and she wishes there was a way to fix it immediately. But there isn't.

* * *

The day was a long one, the April weather being hotter than usual today and the services feeling long and warm. Once she finished there, thanking the preacher for a wonderful sermon and he wishing her the best after her unfortunate event the past week, Ellie made her way to the telegraph. She sent two. One she sent to her sister to let her family know the situation. The other she sent to Jackson's mother, apologizing for everything and promising to visit her the moment she returns in what she estimates will be a year.

After all that she made her way to Ellen's inn.

"Afternoon, Elizabeth!" Ellen cheerfully greets as she spots the young woman walking in.

"Good afternoon, Missus Ellen," Ellie smiles back. She walks to the front desk counter with a smile. "I was in town for church services so I wanted to come by and thank you properly for your hospitality earlier last week. I was in such need and you were so kind."

"Darlin', it was nothin'," she assures as she places a hand atop Ellie's and pats it a couple times. "Ya seem like a sweet girl an' ya just needed a hand."

"I did… and without you and the Winchester men I would be completely down on my luck. Are all the people of this town so kind?"

"Not at all," Ellen's face drops. "Ya watch yerself 'round here, Ellie. So far ya stumbled on the right ones."

Ellie takes the warning for what it is and nods her understanding.

"Them boys treatin' ya proper?" Ellen moves on to brighter things.

"Yes, ma'am," Ellie grins wide after her near week at their farm. "I am not much of a cook but they are patient with me. And they have provided me with everything I could need."

"That's very good ta hear. I will not be needing to turn an ear or two then," she says with a wink.

"No, no… though if you were to turn an ear… it would most likely be mine." Ellie's face falls with the still running guilt and sadness for making Dean so upset earlier.

"What could ya possibly have done wrong, girl?" Ellen disbelieves.

Ellie sighs. "Living in close quarters, I have noticed a… sadness in Dean. Sam too but Dean… he tries to hide it and I believe most are fooled by him. I am not."

Looking at her with wide eyes and a soft smile, Ellen lets her know, "You are quite intuitive, Miss Ellie."

"Not intuitive enough. I mentioned I thought Dean should come to services with me today because I could sense that he was troubled and the Lord might help."

"Oh, them boys is gonna put ya through the mill, I swear it," Ellen comments mostly to herself. "Ellie, ya ain't wrong. Dean, he ain't been right fer some time now. He's a good man, better an' most, but he ain't been to services since a few years after his momma died when he was just a boy."

"His mother passed?" Ellie questions with surprise.

"Dean was just seven," Ellen explains. "An' Sam, poor boy was only a month over three. He don't even really remember her. But Dean sure does."

"That is terrible," Ellie laments, having had no idea that Dean had experienced that.

"Consumption ain't nothin' ta dismiss," Ellen explains. "Their daddy, John, he never recovered. Man went off the deep end an' they sent him east 'bout five years back ta be cared fer since they couldn't handle it. His mind just up an' broke wit the heartache o'er the years.

"Oh my," Ellie comments as the guilt starts to crush her. If she had known she would have never pressed her luck and spoke up about Dean needing church. She knows nothing about him even if for some reason she feels like she does.

"It ain't been easy for them boys but they stay kind an' sweet as pie anyways. Be patient wit them, they be needin' it."

"I had no idea…"

"An' now ya do," Ellen says, eyeing her hard so she'll listen. "An' I think ya gonna be good fer them. They been needin' someone like you ta come along an' lend a hand in more ways 'an one. I think ya catch my drift."

She does. Ellie knows Ellen just wants her to help them overcome the past and maybe move on. She would wish nothing less for them herself as she has come to care about them both so quickly with how good of men they are.

"I will look after them, Ellen," Ellie promises. "They deserve as much."

"That they do," she agrees with a grin.

Ellie smiles with the conversation before moving on. "Say, I went to the wagon to meet Dean just now and he wasn't there. Do you know where I can find him?"

And Ellen's face drops. She knows where he is and she'd rather not let this very nice and very proper woman deal with that.

"Ya know what? I was headed ta Meeker's anyways," Ellen lies as she walks around the desk. "Go on out an' wait at the wagon. I'll git him out there in a snap."

"Oh, thank you," Ellie says kindly. "It was wonderful seeing you again, Miss Ellen."

"Same 'atcha, girl. Don't ya be a stranger. Ya come on by an' say howdy when ya come in ta town, ya hear?"

"I will," Ellie promises and leaves for the wagon while Ellen marches to the saloon.

* * *

"So, whadda ya say, Dean?" Joanna smiles her best smile while once more sitting in the farmer's lap. She grasps hard onto his collar and moves in close, whispering in his ear. "Ya got the time fer some fun wit me before heading back ta that farm a' yers?"

"I think not… oh," Dean tries to deny her but her lips land on his neck and make him moan slightly in his seat at the round bar table. "Joanna…"

"Don't ya say no ta me this time 'round," she says quietly, looking him in the eye before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Ya damn near drunk yerself ta the reaper last time ya came here. Left me high n' dry."

"I blame Bobby," he jokes back.

"I blame _you_," counters Johanna, her lips pressed to his once more. "Do not disappoint me again."

"I, uh…" Dean starts to answer no but catches himself. Why would he say no? He has the money for it, the time if he wants it, and he is a very free man. But it feels wrong for the first time ever.

"Say yer wantin' some time wit me, Dean," Johanna gives him a smoldering look, one that is all about him getting a promise of pleasure. "An' I will show ya a real, _real_ good time."

"Oh, I know ya will, darlin'," Dean huffs a laugh. He knows her. He's been with Joanna enough times to be sure she's worth every cent. "But this ain't the time fer that."

"It's always time fer _that_," Joanna smiles slightly before kissing him again, her lips moving with purpose and determination to remind him of what they have.

"But I can't this time," Dean says without really thinking.

"And why not?"

"I… I just…" And she shuts him up by smashing her lips to his with pure determination. He falls right into it like the horny man that he is and kisses her right up until….

"_Dean Winchester_!" an angry voice calls out. He looks to the door to find Ellen marching with anger towards him.

"Miss Ellen, where's that fire?" he jokes but when she gets to him she just gives him a dirty look as she pulls Johanna off of his lap.

"Hey!" Johanna yells out with anger that the woman is killing her income.

"Ya shall survive," she gruffs back to the woman and yanks Dean's arm until he's standing. "Git that girl ya got workin' fer ya back home, ya flannel mouthed idjit."

"What's the rush?" Dean questions reaching in his pocket to pay for his drinks. "Ellie alright?"

"She's just fine but you ain't," Ellen tells him, pulling him towards the door once he drops money on the table. "She a good woman that don't deserve ta wait on yer ass gettin' half seas over on pussy. Now git."

"Now hold on a tick," Dean stops her and stands his ground against the pushy woman that has taken up motherly duties on Sam and him far too seriously into their adulthood. "Ellie's an employee. If'n I wanna stay here in town a touch longer then she can wait."

"An' tell her what?" Ellen challenges. "Ya wanna tell the girl that she been waitin' by the wagon fer an hour on account a' you gettin' yer dick sucked fer yer honest earnin's?"

"Ya watch yer tone, Miss Ellen," Dean warns strongly. "I ain't that little boy ya always think ya gotta coddle no more."

"Then start actin' like the good man I know ya are in there, Dean," Ellen says, pointing her index finger hard into his chest. "Clean it up, boy. Ya ain't never gone find a good girl to settle wit if ya keep actin' this way."

Dean then gets angry. "I ain't shoppin' fer wives, Miss Ellen. I ain't lookin' fer that kinda trouble in my life. I don't need that. My life is just fine."

"Just fine, huh?" Ellen keeps fighting him. "Ya like livin' in yer house wit just Sam? Alone in yer bed every night? Only getting' familiar wit some strange when yer in town an' have money so that ya can git whacha need an' be the fourth man ta do so that day?"

This is where Joanna leaves, a face full of disrespected anger aimed at Ellen.

"_Watch yer tone, Miss Ellen_!" Dean gets furious by her words now, repeating his former warning. "I don't need no wife. My family, we got a curse on us 'bout women. I'mma just stay away an' save a life."

"That what ya think?" Ellen's voice softens a bit. "That any gal wit ya is gonna end up like yer momma? Like Jessica?"

He does not answer. He just simply stares at her with fire in his veins at the mention of his mother.

"Ya knock that shit off right now, Dean Winchester," Ellen gets serious, pulling his face in close to hers by the collar so he will truly listen. "Yer daddy an' yer brother ran inta some sure bad luck in their day but that _do not_ mean there some curse on ya. It means they hit bad luck, like most a' the saps comin' out west fer gold an' change. Not everythin' works out right… but that don't mean ya stop tryin' ta _make it_ work out right."

Dean shakes his head. "If'n I ain't been knowin' ya fer so long I woulda…."

"What?" Ellen pushes him on. "Ya gonna shut me up?"

Daggers stares at her, Dean keeps his mouth quiet. He damn near overstepped his bounds on that one.

Ellen sighs and gives Dean a couple pats on the cheek once she calms and lets him go. "I love ya like my own, ya dullard. I only say these things 'cause I want ya happy, Dean. Ya could be happy."

"An' how's that?"

She shakes her head. "She got a soft spot fer ya. I can tell. She already cares a great deal fer ya, Sam too."

"Who in Sam Hill ya talkin' 'bout?" Dean questions when he doesn't understand her.

"Ellie," Ellen says to him, making it fully clear to the clueless man.

The way he looks back at her makes her aware of his shock at the suggestion. "She's under my employ."

"So?"

"She just up an' lost her husband."

"_So_?" Ellen emphasizes this one. "I ain't sayin' ya start courtin' her tomorrow. I'm saying she's a good girl, real pretty inside an' out. Ya need a girl like her, Dean. An' I know she's concerned fer ya."

"Why?" he asks with shock.

"'Cause she said so," Ellen explains quickly. "She said she be knowin' ya real well. Can see through ya bull. An' thank God someone can! Ya git yer ass back over ta her an' ya take her back to that farm. Ya make sure ya treat her right, let her take care a' ya, an' ya see what happens."

"Ya morbid, Miss Ellen," Dean shakes his head. "Poor gal still mournin' the loss 'a her husband an' here ya are tryin' to git me hitched."

"I am tryin' to make yer life better," Ellen gets mad. "Now git!"

She pushes him in the back through the saloon doors and out onto the muddy street.

Dean stumbles a step but regains his balance quickly enough. Immediately he can see Ellie by the wagon still hitched in front of the general store. She's talking to Bobby while petting one of his horses. Well now he does feel a little guilty.

"…so ya just let me know, young lady," Bobby says as Dean approaches and can hear him speaking. "I'd be more 'an happy ta help ya out."

"Thank you kindly, Mister Singer," she says with a wide smile, charming the older man easily. "I do appreciate the offer."

"What offer?" Dean questions once he reaches them.

"Oh. Hello, Dean," she grins something happy to see him again. "Mister Singer here…"

"Bobby," the older man corrects with a warm smile, liking her already.

"Excuse, _Bobby_ here offered to place orders out to the East for items I may need seeing as that is where I'm from and that is what I'm accustomed to."

"That was mighty kind," Dean says, looking at Bobby and seeing how taken he is with her instantly. Seems like everyone has been quite taken with her right away.

"This here is one good gal ya got workin' fer ya, Dean," he lets the younger man know. "Ya boys treat her right as I might be needin' her kinda sunshine ta come through my store now an' then, lift my spirits."

"What, ya gonna marry her now, ya dirty old man?" Dean jests and swats the man on the arm.

"Nah, I'm far too old fer a beautiful young gal such as her," Bobby flirts with Ellie easily. "An' I don't think Missus Singer'd be likin' that much."

"Easy, old man," Dean warns with a grin before turning to Ellie. "Ya git yer business 'round here done?"

"Yes," she answers easily, her smile trying to hide how difficult the day has been for her. He gives her an odd look, letting her know he's picked up on it.

"Then let's head back," Dean announces. "I'mma be real hungry after this trip…"

"You would not be fishing for some big Sunday dinner now, would you?" Ellie just grins at him, knowing he is. She's feeling better already, thinking he's past the rudeness she displayed before they parted ways earlier.

"A 'course!"

"Then you are in luck," Ellie lets him know as he helps her up into the wagon. She settles into the seat. "I hope you don't mind but I had some money left from sending telegrams. Mister Wells gave me a good deal on some strawberries. Figured I could make a pie for dessert."

When she just smiles at him, knowing how much this news is making him happy, Dean gets blown away.

"How ya be knowin' that I love pies?"

"I asked your brother," she answers easily. "He told me it was your favorite."

Dean then looks at Bobby and points up at her now in her seat in the wagon. "An' that is exactly why ya ain't gettin' yer mitts on her. She's mine." He jokes but deep down he knows he wouldn't give her up to any guy without a fight if she's going to bake like she has the past few days.

Bobby holds his hands out in surrender. "Ya have a good day now, Missus Ellie." He tips his hat to her and she smiles in return before heading out for the ride back to the farm.

* * *

"Ya alright there, Ellie?" Dean asks about halfway back to the farmhouse. She's been completely quiet since they left the general store which wasn't expected with her high spirits she was at least pretending to have before they left. Her conversation with Bobby was light and happy. Her attitude now is much different and he can sense something is off.

"Just fine, Dean," she says to him and smiles. But he can see through her much like Ellen said Ellie could see through him. She's obvious to him.

"Yer a liar."

"I am no liar," she quickly rebuts.

"Then ya best be tellin' the truth now," Dean warns, looking over to her with a knowing glance.

She gives in after holding herself together. "I thought it would have made me feel better."

"What woulda?"

"Services. Praising our good Lord like I should," she answers. "I always used to leave the church feeling like a better version of myself, my worries and wrong doings washed away."

"I reckon that didn't happen this time?"

"No," she says, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I feel just as awful."

"Why would ya feel awful?"

"I… just do," Ellie answers sadly. "I thought… I thought God was just. I was always told He was just and right. But now…." She looks over to him. "You don't believe in the good Lord, do you, Dean?"

He pauses, knowing she does and not wanting to further give her reason to change her views. But more than that he wants to be truthful to her. "No, I do not."

"Is it on account of your mother?"

He tenses at the question, his teeth clenched immediately. He didn't know she was aware of that.

"I'm so sorry for being out of line but Missus Ellen let me know," she quickly explains. "And I can see how you might abandon that belief after such a thing. My own faith is wavering plenty. I know the feeling."

Dean keeps his stoic stance in place despite his heart hurting for the both of them in that wagon. They've both experienced things that would absolutely make their beliefs change and they're justified in that.

"Being there, at mass… it did not make the pain any better or the sadness any lesser," Ellie tells him, finding it easy to say these things to him when it would be considered possibly out of line by most as he is her employer. "My Jackson was such a wonderful man. Always so good and… he deserved a good, long life." Her eyes water and face wrinkles as her fight to keep from crying doesn't work. "If God were just and right… my poor Jackson would not be gone from me now. We would be on our way out further west instead of me bein' here… being stuck…." She realizes her misstep and snaps her focus onto the man that has given her a second chance. "Not to say I don't appreciate what you have done for me and that I do not enjoy the company ya'll give but…." She gives up with a sigh, letting the tears trail down her cheeks.

And being the manly man that grew up in an all-male household, Dean gets slightly uncomfortable with this. He doesn't handle emotions all that well despite doing just fine up until now. He's grown unaccustomed to this side of women-folk.

"Now, don't go cryin', El," Dean tries to stop her. "Ya know, sometimes… sometimes things look bad, an' they _are_ bad, but that ain't God bein' mean an' unjust."

"Oh no?" Ellie asks, looking at him and not at all believing him.

"Nah. My daddy used ta tell me that God only do the bad stuff ta the good people that can handle it."

"Why?" Ellie asks him. "Why would God do that? Why would he make the lives of good people so filled with difficulties? I do not know you and Sam well but I can say that I do not believe you earned the pain you've seen in losing your mother to sickness. And your father to sickness of the mind."

Dean nods, his face stoned. "But Sam an' me, we still kickin'. We alive an' we alright."

She just looks at him with sorrow. "But ya'll are both so sad deep down."

"Sadness makes us human," Dean says, looking out at the road. "We're real an' still good people if'n we can feel sadness. Before my daddy went off the ranch he sure was a smart man an' he always told me an' Sam that."

"I agree," Ellie answers, seeing this point of view as very valid and wiping her eyes. "He's a very smart man."

"So don't be goin' an' givin' up on yer faith, Ellie," Dean tries again. "I'mma stubborn old man that just let his beliefs fade when he shouldn't have. Yer better an' that. Ya hang tight there."

"Maybe I need to," Ellie nods, looking at him. "I think ya'll should come with me next week anyways. To Church. You and Sam."

"No," Dean denies right away, knowing that getting Sam there would be damn near impossible.

"Just think about it, please?" Ellie tries again and when Dean meets her eyes his heart melts a little for her. She's just trying so hard to be alright and help him out. Why he doesn't know but she wants him to be a better person, a happier person, even through her personal troubles.

"I'll think 'bout it… but that ain't no yes!" he warns, not wanting her to assume she's won. She hasn't. In fact, he knows he won't go. He just wants her day to be a little better.

"Good," she grins softly. "It would help to have you there."

"Why?"

She thinks about that for a few seconds. "I don't know. I just know that if you were with me… I'd feel better about being at services. Just would."

He glances at her and is surprised by her words. She's quickly becoming someone he really likes being around… and she makes him feel like he's better than he is. It's a good feeling.

* * *

After getting back from town it had been a quiet, lovely day. The Winchesters have always worked hard, harder than hard, six days a week. On Sunday they took it easy. They liked to tend to the animals themselves, even milk the cow and feed the pigs, but past that they only did the bare minimum in order to keep the crops healthy. They may not be religious but they held the Sabbath sacred in their own way.

Ellie, on the other hand, has a long day for herself. The men were messier if they were always around the house and on top of keep it clean she was expected to cook a big Sunday meal for both dinner and supper combined. As Dean told her, this is how their mother raised them. She's happy to keep that tradition up for them, knowing now what their mother meant to them, especially Dean.

So now, chicken long slaughtered for the event and dinner close to done, and shockingly not burnt this time around, Ellie calls the men in from the small front porch.

"Dinner, ya'll!"

"Heck yeah," Dean says, standing up and placing his banjo he'd been fiddling with against the doorway. He flies out of his rocking chair and practically runs for the kitchen, Sam sticking to his own rocker to finish the page he was on in his current book before marking it and calmly getting up.

Dean stops short when he sees the kitchen area.

"Aw, Ellie!" Dean glees when he watches her bring a plate of fried chicken to the table. He observes the mashed potatoes, thick and hopefully tasty gravy to accompany it, the corn fritters and fresh milk set out on the kitchen table and his mouth waters. "Oh my word."

"Dang," Sam smiles with excitement when he catches up and gets a look at the display.

"Did I go and get too excited with all this?" Ellie nervously asks, her hands ringing in front of the apron she's wearing.

"If'n this is you getting' excited then ya best be getting' excited every darn Sunday," Dean tells her. "Ellie, darlin', yer alright."

"Well, now you're just trying to make a mash on me, Mister Winchester," Ellie laughs a little, not realizing it's the first time in weeks she's done so.

"No, I reckon that'd be mighty improper," Dean smiles at her kindly. "I'm just real impressed wit ya. Ya ain't been here but a week an' yer already cookin' like…" He pauses and shuts his mouth for a moment. Sam and Ellie both look at him with surprise.

"Like what?" Ellie asks him.

"Well… I reckon I was gonna say… ya cookin' like momma did," Dean admits. He lets the corner of his mouth twitch as he looks over the table again. "She was a mighty good cook, I remember that."

Looking at him with something just short of adoration for his honesty and his compliment, she walks right up to him and kisses him on the cheek, the peck light and nearly blink-and-you-miss-it quick.

"That is mighty kind of you to say, Dean," she says up to his much taller high. "I appreciate that as I know she must have been a really good cook for you to say that."

"She was," Dean says is an almost whisper, so caught off guard by her move.

And Sam stands by silently, watching the exchange and getting a pit in his stomach feeling that maybe this hiring was a bad idea… or great idea. He's not sure yet.

"Sit down," Ellie says to them as she pulls out her rocking chair with books so she can sit at the table.

"No! Wait a tick!" Dean calls out suddenly and sprints for the front door. He disappears in a flash and Sam and Ellie look at each other.

"What is all this about?" she questions Dean's odd actions.

"Don't know but that might mean more food fer us," he jokes and Ellie smiles at him.

"Here!" Dean proudly announces and hoists the new wooden chair up higher for them both to see as he marches into the house. "I got it at Bobby's store."

"You got me a chair," Ellie says with sheer delight, honored that he thought of her while in town.

"Ya needed one, didn't ya?" he asks while placing it on the floor to put the rocking chair back in front of the fireplace.

"Sure did," Ellie says, watching Dean bringing the chair to her place at the table and holding it out for her. "Thank you."

"Yer welcome," he answer, pushing it in for her once she sits before the men take their places. Once they settle in Dean reaches for a corn fritter and she stops him.

"Um, wait," she quietly says, unsure of herself. They both look at her and wait expectantly, seeing her sudden nervousness.

"Ya best be gittin' on wit that statement a'fore I just attack this here good lookin' food," Dean warns.

"Would it… I am sorry if you find me offensive as this is your home and not mine but… could we say a quick grace?" Ellie asks of them. "It's something we always did back home… and when I ate with Jackson… during big special meals."

The men stay quiet with the request.

"I know this isn't normal for you two, and I know I am possibly being rude, but I just…"

"It's fine," Dean cuts in. "We can do that, right Sam?"

The brothers exchange a look, one very cold one from Sam and one very hopeful one from Dean.

"Ya'll both can," Sam relents. "It's fine. I'll wait ta eat until ya done."

Ellie just looks at Sam and realizes her mistake. "No, Sam. This is your home. If I'm making you uncomfortable…"

"He ain't uncomfortable," Dean assures. "He just don't do grace."

"Then neither do I," Ellie says while looking to Sam. "I don't want to change your house. That's not my place. Let's eat."

"Ellie, it's ok," Sam says, a real and yet somewhat sad smile on his face. "Please. Ya live here. Heck, you made this meal. Say the grace you'd like ta say."

"Thank you, Sam," she smiles at him before placing her hands on the dinner table. She doesn't try to take the hands of the men around her as she doesn't know what their boundaries are at this point and clearly, concerning religion, the boundaries are most likely strong. She then closes her eyes and starts. "Lord, thank you for this bountiful meal. We are so thankful for your generosity when so many others are not nearly as fortunate. And I also thank you as you found it fit for me to be alive and at this very table to have this very meal after such a terrible ordeal. I feel I am forever in your debit. And please, bless the men I am in the company of for this meal. They are good, kind men and I thank you for steerin' me towards them in my most dyer time of need. Without them I would be but lost right now but you delivered me to them…"

Ellie pauses when she can feel a hand wrap around her own. She opens her eyes to see Dean looking at her, his brow wrinkled as he looks to her with concern and gratefulness.

"And I thank you for that. Amen."

Dean huffs a laugh to break the serious moment. "We dig in now, right?"

"Yes," Ellie lets go of a small laugh as she releases his hand.

And Sam rolls his eyes. "Just try not ta choke on the food this time, Dean. Go slow…"


	26. The Promise of the West (Part 5)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

**Late** **June, 1867**

"Hurry up, ya'll!" Ellie calls out of the back door. "Breakfast is getting cold!"

"Comin', darlin'!" she hears Dean's voice shout back to her from the barn and she just shakes her head, knowing that he will be right along. Food never failed to get Dean running.

She plates up the pancakes, three per plate, before adding the pork sausage she helped Sam make just a short two weeks ago when a pig in the pen out back became too old.

She places the plates in their usual spots at the table with a small, contented smile on her lips. The past couple months have been quiet and surprisingly healing. She's found a nice little place within the small family of two brothers and things move smoothly from day to day. She cooks and cleans and maintains the animals, they work the fields that will bring in the money they all need to survive and for Ellie to move on.

"That sausage is smellin' mighty good," Dean says, jogging excitedly through the doorway after making a quick trip to the barn on a lazy Sunday morning.

"Ah-ah!" Ellie scolds and points at him accusingly. He knows what that means.

"Sorry ma'am," he apologizes jokingly for his overzealous ways and swaps his aim for the table with a new aim for the wash basin, already filled, to clean up. "Lucky-boy's leg is lookin' better."

"Thank goodness," Ellie sighs with relief. "That horse has been making me worry something awful."

"Me too," Dean admits. "Wrapped him up real good this time. I'mma keep him in fer the day, let him heal."

Ellie looks at him with wonder. "How're we planning to get into town then?"

"Not sure we gonna," Dean admits, wiping his now clean hands on a rag left for him.

She looks to him with total disappointment. "No services then?"

"Not 'less ya wanna ride one horse inna town wit me," Dean scoffs a little and sits at his place.

Ellie sits with that idea for a moment. "We could."

Peering at her funny, Dean lifts one eyebrow. "Ya sure that ain't improper or whatnot?" he asks with a slightly joking tone.

"Hush your mouth," she warns when he makes fun of her ways. For a long time she's been hung up on her old rules of what is right and polite and what is wrong. Dean's found it amusing to watch her, seeing her adjustment from the East to the Midwest. "And yes, maybe it'll be a bit improper but if it'll get me to church and to visit Jackson then I can handle it."

Dean nods with surprise at her. "Well, alright. We be headin' out when yer done in the kitchen then."

"Alright, then." She smiles at him, happy to see he will be accommodating of her.

"Mornin', Ellie," Sam greets, coming down from the second floor. "Smells awful good in here."

"I'm getting better every day, right?" she laughs a bit despite knowing it's true.

"I'll say," he answers and sits down, digging in quickly.

With the two eating up a storm at the table, Ellie grabs the dog bowl from the floor and dumps a pancake into it. "Cass! Come!" she yells out back.

In a flash the dog is at the back door, running in with high excitement. He stands at the door, his tail wagging fiercely as he watches her closely.

Ellie grabs a sausage link, breaking it into little pieces. "Sit, Cass." The dog does and she feeds him a piece of sausage that he hungrily accepts. "Lay down." He does and earns more of the treat. "Sit." He sits back up. "Shake on it." The dog offers his paw to her and she takes it. "Oh, what a good boy! Good boy, Cassie! Very good!"

"This here's like dinner an' a show!" Dean delights from his seat as Lizzy places the dog bowl onto the floor inside the kitchen as Cass has become accustomed to partially living inside the house now that his manners are improved.

"He's a very smart pup," Ellie says, ruffing his fur on his head while he eats and no longer earning a growl from him for it. "He just needs to be challenged now and then, keep him on his toes and all. Use that big ol' brain of his."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Sam jokes and pokes his brother in the arm with a fork.

"Ow, bastard!" Dean calls out without thinking. Ellie marches right for him. "Ow!" he yells again when she slaps him upside the head just hard enough to get his attention.

"Watch that mouth of yours," she warns and heads back for the stove to make her own plate.

"Lady, I'm payin' ya. Ya can't just hit me," Dean points out.

"I didn't hit ya as an employee. I hit you as a woman being subjected to such foul language."

Dean glares at her for a second. "Ya gonna make me nuts, ain't 'cha?"

She just grins as she takes a seat with a plate in her hands.

Dean simply huffs a laugh and shakes his head, getting yet another reminder why it is that he hasn't at all minded having her around these past few months.

* * *

"Ya wanna head right fer the church or should I drop ya elsewhere?" Dean asks as they ride Spyder, his healthy horse, into town. She sits side saddle in front of him in her skirt and button-up ruffled shirt, some of the clothing she asked an advance in payment for when she could no longer survive in one dress every day. Her hair is up in a proper, loose bun and the sun of the lovely yet hot June day lights up her brown eyes to a warm, beautiful color. Dean would be lying if he said he didn't notice moments like this now and then, moments when she looked just stunning and exceptional.

"Church please, if you don't mind," she says while turning her head to look at him. She's become so comfortable with the Winchesters, Dean especially, that it feels almost strange at times. Why, she isn't sure, but strange nonetheless. "I don't wanna be late."

"What Miss Ellie wants…," Dean trails off and focuses on the dusty road ahead, the town just in sight off in the distance.

"Thank you, Dean," Ellie says to him with sincerity. "I know some Sundays you'd prefer to stay at home and not have to travel into town… but you do it anyways. For me. I appreciate that."

Dean nods and keeps the comment quiet. Yes, she's right. Sitting on his porch all day with a little whiskey and his banjo sounded like a much better plan than trekking to town but he'd do it without complaint for as long as Ellie wanted. Church is important to her and it's important to him that she gets what she needs in life after all she's been through.

"Can I ask if today is the day you finally come with me?" Ellie questions him, asking once a week if he'll join her. She knows the answer she'll likely get but she'll always still ask.

"I'm thinkin' ya already know that answer, El," he tells her easily. "Ain't my thing."

"That's alright," she smiles at him and knows she'll keep trying. "Are you going to that saloon?"

"After I visit with Bobby, yessum," Dean lets her know his plan. "I can meet ya back at ol' Spyder here at the usual time."

"Alright then," she smiles at him despite her worries. She wishes he didn't drink so much when in town but it wasn't her place to say much else. He can decide for himself what he does.

From there they head into town silently, neither needing to speak so much anymore. Silence between them has never been uncomfortable.

* * *

Standing by Spyder for a good half hour now that her services and visit to Jackson's grave is done, Ellie starts to get concerned. Dean's never this late. He might be off a few minutes here and there but never by this much. It makes her worry.

"Hey, boy," she says quietly to the horse, petting down his nose with love. She's come to appreciate the animals from the farm, especially the horses and Cass. They hold a soft spot in her heart. "You stay put, huh? I'll go and get Dean. Maybe he had a little too much," she jokes.

She turns from the horse and walks away down the muddy main street a bit towards Meeker's Saloon.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Coming down from it all, his head lowered into the crook of her neck as he catches his breath, Dean sighs. Ellie might find her renewal in church every Sunday but Dean's certainly got his own services that free his soul.

"Was startin' ta think ya were done wit me, Dean," Joanna jokes when he lifts his head to look down at her.

"Aw, I can't be spendin' _all_ my earnin's on ya, Joanna," Dean smirks his patented smile at her. "My brother might up an' kill me fer that."

"Is that what it is?" she challenges him with a smile all his own. "It ain't that girl ya got workin' fer ya maybe gittin' ya what ya need when ya ain't in town?"

Dean's face drops instantly and he gets up off of her and out of bed.

"I say somethin' wrong?" Joanna asks, propping up on her elbows and not bothering to cover up.

"Don't ya talk 'bout Ellie that way," Dean warns quietly as he walks to his clothes strewn about the brothel room to get dressed.

Joanna is taken aback by this reaction. "I was just makin' a joke."

"It wasn't funny," he responds, pulling his pants up his legs as he glares at her.

"What is the big hoopla, Dean?" she nearly laughs when she's feeling odd around him in the moment. She's never seen Dean react this way before. "She just a girl that be workin' fer ya an' I was just playin' wit ya."

"She a real good girl," Dean tells her, buttoning his clothing before reaching for his shirt. "She been good to me an' Sam an' she don't need ta be called a whore."

Joanna stands up and starts to get dressed now too, feeling insulted. "An' what's so dang wrong wit bein' a whore?"

Dean sees his misstep immediately. "I didn't mean ta… cast aspersions on ya. I'm just sayin' Ellie ain't like that. She's kind. She's proper an' a church goer…"

"What in Sam Hill she doin' 'round the likes a' you then?" Joanna remarks and when she meets Dean's eyes she smiles wide at him. He relaxes and smiles back before continuing to get dressed.

"All I'm sayin' is keep ya mouth kind when ya talkin' 'bout her. She's nothin' if'n she ain't a real good girl."

Joanna nods to herself as she pulls her dress up, buttoning the long trail up the front as she sees the situation for what it really is. "Ya like her."

"What!?" Dean looks to her like she's crazy.

"Ya do. Yer 'bout as see-through as a' damn window pain, Dean Winchester. Ya like her a whole mess."

"No I don't," he denies and gets annoyed.

"Ya do."

"_No, I don't_," he repeats.

"Then why ya in a tizzy wit me sayin' so?" she points out to him, fluffing her hair and preparing to head back out to the saloon. "If'n ya didn't like her then me sayin' ya did would not'a been a big ol' deal."

Gritting his teeth, Dean sits down to pull on his boots. "Ya got a mouth on ya."

"And she done made a mash on ya!" Joanna laughs a little. "Ya ain't never gotten mad at me before, not once."

"Ya ain't never run yer mouth on things ya ain't knowin' 'bout before," he points out to her, sitting on the end of the now rumpled bed. "Ya keep goin' an' ya gonna make me think yer on the shoot."

"I ain't on the shoot," Joanna rolls her eyes. "It's just that ya been comin' ta see me fer so long now, Dean. I know ya well enough. Ya ain't never once looked like ya did today."

"An' how did I look today?" Dean pries on, thinking she's full of it.

"Like yow were mighty conflicted 'bout visitin' me," she admits. "Up until Miss Ellie arrived in town ya ain't never hesitated to pony up ta me. When she got here… ya been a scarce sight 'round these parts." She puts her hands on her hips and smiles, making clear what _parts_ she means.

The corner of Dean's mouth turns up at that. She's funny. It's one of the reasons he's always liked coming to see Joanna. She's not only a good time in bed and well worth the money but she's got a sense of humor.

He then thinks of Ellie's sense of humor. It's a lot less crude but still quite funny.

"Ya run yer mouth an awful amount," Dean comments to her.

"I thought ya liked this mouth just fine," Joanna jests a bit and makes Dean full on smile.

"It ain't bad," he says with a little levity.

"Ain't bad!?" she outrages right back and walks up to him as he takes his hat from the bedpost. She grabs his collar and meets his eyes. "I got the best mouth in the west, cowboy." She then kisses him good, her lips devouring his with clear intent. "An' ya know it be true."

Dean grabs her ass through her dress. "Ya right. I take it back, huh?"

"Good." She winks while popping his hat back on his head and then walks for the door, opening it once they were dressed and proper for the public. They begin walking down the hallway and towards the large staircase in the salon to the bar on the main floor. "So… ya gonna tell her?'

"Tell her what?" Dean pushes back, not admitting to anything.

"Ugh, ya men are an impossible bunch," she rolls her eyes and links her arm in his.

"Ya watch that tone, ma'am," Dean says to her as they make it down the stairs.

"Ya watch yerself right back," she flirts and leans in, pulling him down by the back of the neck for a parting kiss from her favorite client. Dean gives in, kissing right back, but out of the corner of his eye he catches someone staring at him in the saloon door way.

Ellie.

Dean backs away from the kiss hastily just in time to see the disappointed look on her face as Ellie turns to leave the saloon.

He must be late. She must have come looking for him. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach.

"I gots ta git," Dean says quickly, pulling his payment from his pocket before rushing out the front door of the saloon, the entire display just proving to Joanna that she was right about him.

* * *

Once she reaches where Spyder is hitched once more, Ellie stops and stands there, feeling… what? She isn't sure.

A fair amount of disappointment is running through her chest, she knows that much. But why would she be so disappointed in Dean? He's her boss and she has no right to have such a reaction to what he chooses to do with his free time. But then again Dean's become a good friend to her and she cares about his moral lapses. Saloon girls are not a morally sound decision.

But more than anything she's hurt and that is not the kind of response she could have ever imagined. She's hurt to her core and has no idea why. He never betrayed her or lied to her. He is a free, unmarried man and out this way she had heard that whores were a bit of a traditional pastime for some. She has no right to react this way… but she does anyways.

And when she sees Dean making his way quickly to her she gets nervous. Her hands shake as she pets Spyder, busying herself as her mind races with worry and awkwardness.

And all she wanted was to gather her boss so she could head back and start working on their Sunday supper.

"Ellie," Dean greets when he's come up to her, his hands in his pockets with strange anxiety.

"Dean," she responds, only glancing at him once with uncomfortable grace.

"Ya ready to head on back home," he smiles something forced, looking to smooth over the odd air between them.

"Yessum," she answers, staring at her feet and not at him.

This is not good. "Alright, then," Dean says, his voice shaky as he steps up to her and grabs her by the waist, hoisting her up onto Spyder for the ride home.

"Thank you," she says in return as he gets on himself. They settle in for the ride, her side against his front, and she wonders why it has to be _this_ time that they're so close for the trip of all the times they've come into town together.

* * *

It's been silent the whole ride and they have no more than a mile left. Before now their quiet and conversation free time would be comfortable. Now… it's awkward as hell. And just terrible.

"Ya mad at me 'er somethin'?" Dean finally speaks up after a near hour of no talking while he stares straight at the road ahead. He hates talking about emotional issues and all but the weird _thing_ between them right now is just killing him. He can't stand it anymore.

"Why would I be mad?" Ellie says back despite knowing full well what's irking her.

"I don't think ya got real reason ta… but I'm thinkin' yer mad at me still." He knows she is.

"I'm not," she lies.

"Then good."

"Good," Ellie returns with, looking down at her hands as they make their way, her shoulder and upper arm pressed to his chest that she can feel is quite capable and strong at such close quarters.

The silence consumed them again for a bit until Ellie can't stay quiet anymore.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you feel the need to visit… women like that?" Ellie questions him when her curiosity gets to be too much. She says it with innocence and no judgment.

"Why do ya care?" he counters with slight anger.

"Because… you just… ya seem like a good man. A catch, really," Ellie explains herself. "You're kind and giving. You work hard to be successful with your farm. And the way you are with your brother… you're a good man. You could have any woman. Why don't you?"

"Why don't I have any woman?" Dean gets confused.

"Why don't you have some beautiful, kind wife by now?" she questions him, finally looking up to meet his impossibly green eyes out under the sun of the midday.

Dean sits for a second, tightening his grip on the reigns of his horse. "Don't think I met a girl worth spendin' my life on just yet, I reckon."

"I think you're being awfully picky then," she comments, being very forward. "There are some very nice and quite pretty girls in this town. I met some at church since I've been attending services…"

"Ellie, I ain't goin' ta church."

"That wasn't me trying to get you there," she assures. "What I'm saying is if you want a good girl, one to always be there and love you instead of paying for temporary company, then there are a few ladies in town that'd be happy to treat you well."

She's trying to pawn him off on some other girl. She's trying to get him fixed up and hitched after only knowing him for two months.

"This here conversation is over," he declares to her. "Ya don't know me from a dang stick in the mud so fer you to make such assumptions is not only bold but foolish."

"I never meant to upset you…"

"Ya did," he snaps back.

"I apologize then," Ellie says to him and looks off into the distance to avoid his eyes with her rudeness. "I just want better for you, Dean. I like you. I know what a good man you are. Please take my words as a concerned friend and not some nosy gal that doesn't know you. I know you."

"Ya don't."

"Ya think I don't but I do," she counters. "Don't know why but I do see you. The real you."

"And what's the real me, since ya so wise an' all," he asks while remaining angry with her.

"You're a man that hires a person down on her luck when she has nowhere else to go," Ellie says, once more looking at her hands in her lap. "You're a man that lies to a girl's face when she makes an awful meal because you don't want her feelings hurt on account of you caring. You're a man that, no matter what front you put up… you want more. You want to be happy and ya want to find that good life."

"An' how would ya know I want that 'er not?" Dean presses her, trying to see if he can prove her wrong.

"Already told you. I see you. The real you, not the surface you," she gets brave and looks up at him. "You could be happy. You just have to let yourself be so and stop being so tough."

He just stares at her for a second. She did get a good amount of that right and he has no idea how she did it. But she doesn't know it all like she thinks and that's still enough for him to find her boldness a true annoyance.

"Ya don't know me that well, Miss Ellie," he tells her and sets his eyes onto the road again, using a moniker for her he never does.

She gets the point and shuts her mouth after making her last amends if possible. "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

He doesn't respond and the rest of the ride is back to uncomfortable quiet.

* * *

Sam can feel the tension. It's so damn thick he'd need more than a butter knife to cut through it. Whatever happened in town today between his brother and Ellie, it isn't good.

So now, as they sit down to the usual big Sunday meal, Sam looks between the two of them as they eat in near silence. The table is normally filled with talk and laughter, Ellie being quite easy to speak to and light on humor. But today the only sound is utensils scraping plates.

"Alright," Sam declares, putting his fork down and pressing his palms to the tabletop. "What in Sam Hill happened wit you two?"

They both try and put on innocent faces when they pause mid bite to look at him.

"Nothin' happened, Sam. Eat yer food," Dean grumps and scoops another bite of snap peas into his mouth.

"Bull," he calls them out.

"He's right. Nothing happened," Ellie reinforces but Sam's not buying it.

"Ya'll are both terrible liars."

"It's nothing," she tells him and smiles with that fake smile she showed up with two months back. "We just didn't see eye to eye on a matter that is nothing to get concerned about."

Sam glares at them both with disbelief. He then focuses on Dean. "What'd ya do?"

"Me!?" Dean asks with shock.

"Yeah."

"Nothing!"

"And I'm Wild Bill Hickok," Sam calls him out. "What did ya do, Dean?"

"Dean didn't do anything that wasn't within his rights to do," Ellie explains to Sam quickly and with a lack of details. "And I went and put my foot in my mouth about it. It's my fault and I was being out of line." Ellie then glances at Dean out of the corner of her eye, hoping he heard her apology for what it was.

"Well… it wasn't _all_ Ellie's fault," Dean adds in, peeking at Ellie quickly to see that she's also listening. "My behavior ain't always proper an' it don't always make me proud. I make bad decisions. Sometimes I'mma need a reminder that I ain't some mudsill an' I shouldn't be actin' like it."

Dean looks over to Ellie and lets go of a small apologetic smile that lasts all of a second before his stoic face returns.

"You are no mudsill," she says, her mouth turned up in the corners with his way of explaining himself. It amused her greatly.

"An' ya ain't outta line," Dean returns. "Ya care an' I ain't used to that."

And her small smile grow true and bright as the noon sun with that comment.

She drops her fork, her plate mostly done. She picks it up along with the plates of the two men she's dining with. "How 'bout some dessert?" she asks Dean mostly as she stands.

"Ya made some?" he questions, having assumed she'd been too angered by him to make him something like that.

"Of course," she answers, getting up from her seat to clear the dishes. "It's summer. It's berry cobbler season."

Dean lets go of a delighted laugh. "Oh, my-my, El. Am I awful glad ya came 'round our way."

She picks up his plate and pauses while looking at him. He's returned to using her nickname he's made for her. "Me too."

And Sam says nothing at all as his sights shift back and forth between the two of them, confused by whatever the fuck just happened.


	27. The Promise of the West (Part 6)

**August, 1867**

Ever since June, ever since seeing Dean walk down those saloon steps with a whore on his arm, Ellie's been concerned. Not with Dean, of course. In the end, no matter what she might say, he's a grown man that can make grown man decisions about his life.

She's concerned about herself and where exactly it is her mind has been going.

And now, as she looks out into the back field through the back doorway on a hot, thick summer night at the wrong timing she's sure she has something to be concerned about.

She lost track of time. Dean and Sam warned her that they were going to bathe that night after working the fields and that they'd need their privacy. Without peeping intentions, Ellie needed to head out to fetch more water to get dinner done.

Now she finds herself in the doorway, heart pounding at the view she's getting.

By the big metal wash basin stands Dean, bare from the waist up. His tanned skin lit by the waning light of day is just damn near perfection. As he moves to bend down and wet a cloth she can see the muscles in his back contact and stretch, her mouth going dry with it. She knew he was a good looking man, knew it more and more each day she spent in his home, but he's more than she expected. And her entire body starts to react to him.

She shouldn't be watching him, she knows how wrong and improper it is… but looking away feels impossible. The water beading off his skin, the way his arms flex as he washes up, it makes her heart skip and her face hot when she thinks about how tightly those arms could hold her, how safe they would make her feel. How perfect his hands, rough yet dexterous with his work on his farm, could feel on her _everywhere_….

When he reaches for the button on his pants is when Ellie knows she's been looking for too long. As he lowers his clothing down his legs she rushes away from the door before she gets caught. With her back against the wall just to the side of the doorway her brain kicks in again when she's no longer viewing what she now knows as the most beautiful example of a man she's ever seen.

And what she realizes scares her horribly.

Dropping the pail on the floor she runs to her room to find privacy. Once there, door closed behind her, she sits on her bed.

Jackson's only been gone four months. Just four months. That's barely the amount of time to properly mourn a wonderful man such as he and here she is, tarnishing his memory by lusting after another man, one she never intended to ever find herself having any predilection towards.

Her husband deserves better than this, she thinks as she starts to cry and once more mourn his absence in her life. Jackson was an exemplary man and perfect husband. She was more than lucky to even know him much less know what it's like to be loved by him. How could she so quickly turn around and look at another? How could she be so rude and uncaring and just awful?

"I'm sorry, love," she says to the air, hoping he can hear her as she cries. "I am so sorry. I love you so much. I am just terrible…."

* * *

"She been in there fer at least an hour," Dean says with worry as he paces the porch.

"An' she's been cryin' the whole time?" Sam wonders, his own nerves high with the situation. When they came in from the yard once they'd bathed and gotten dressed in the clothes she cleaned and left out for them, both were shocked to find the kitchen empty with dinner half done.

"Fer what I know," Dean answers, having heard her troubled voice when he called on her, knocking quietly and asking if she was alright. The choked 'fine' she returned with was much less than convincing.

"Damn. She'd been doin' so good," Sam says as he thinks of the past four months. She's been strong, stronger than he was in this very situation, but no one is so strong that the loss of one's most beloved wouldn't affect them greatly.

"Ya thinkin' this is 'bout her husband?" Dean questions Sam without thinking.

"Sure of it," Sam answers. "I'mma try an' talk to her."

"Whoa, hold up now," Dean says, grabbing Sam's arm before he could go back in. "Ya think that wise?"

"She's all alone. Bein' alone when ya feel like this… it ain't right." And he would know.

"I mean… I guess since I ain't never been through that, ya might know better 'an me," Dean nods and accepts Sam's want to speak with her despite his wanting to be involved with whatever will make Ellie feel better at the moment. He's well aware of how protective he's been over her but this is Sam. Sam is safe.

"It'll be alright," Sam assures his worried brother and heads in.

When he gets to the door it's quiet, very quiet, so he knocks just as quietly on her bedroom door.

"Ellie?" Sam calls in and waits. After a moment he hears her answer.

"I'm here."

Her voice is so small and sad it hurts his heart to hear.

"Can I speak wit ya?" Sam asks.

"Oh, no… Sam I…"

"Please?" he tries again. "I think we need ta talk about somethin'."

"I'm alright," she assures without sounding one bit convincing. "I just need a moment."

"I'm comin' in, Ellie," Sam warns as he turns the door knob against her wishes. He very slowly pushes the door open until he's looking at her face to face. Her cheeks glistening with tears and eyelids rimmed in red lets him know just what a tough place she's in.

He sighs something understanding as he closes the door behind him and takes a seat at the foot of her small bed, Ellie sitting on the side edge so they're facing different walls. Being in a woman's bedroom was most likely all sorts of improper where she's from so he keeps a fair distance.

"We been livin' in close quarters fer a long time now and… I ain't told ya about how much we got in common."

"What do ya mean?" she questions in a sad tone, hands fiddling with that handkerchief Dean gave her when they first met over Jackson's grave.

"Ya ain't the only one that lost someone ya love."

"I know, Sam. Your mother…"

"I wasn't speakin' of my momma," he gets it over with. "I was speakin' of Jessica."

Ellie's head pops up and turns sharply to look at him, his back hunched and head bowed.

"I was ta be married two years back," Sam explains. "Jessica was Bobby's daughter. We met when she moved this way ta live with him an' help him wit the store. The second I met her… oh, I was smitten." He smiles when he remembers that day. "She had bright, straw color hair an' big ol' deep eyes, and her smile… dang near lit up every room she ever been in. She was beautiful through an' through. I knew right away I loved her. Just knew it."

Ellie keeps quiet, not knowing what to even say to such a discovery. She's lived with Sam for months and he never told her this. It must pain him too much to say it all aloud.

"We courted fer some time," he continues. "I went inta town sometimes twice a week just ta see her for a little bit, just ta talk to her. She was so smart an' she may have been the kindest woman I ever met. She done reminded me 'a my momma a bit… kinda like you do too sometimes."

He looks to her and she shares one flattered yet soft smile with him.

"Both ya'll were tough ladies yet ya kept yer decorum. An' you care, _really_ care… even when ya shouldn't an' it's only gonna hurt ya."

Sam pauses, running a hand through his hair with how much this all hurts to say out loud to another person.

"An' then she took sick one day, a month before we were ta marry," Sam's voice shakes a bit as he recalls it. "Consumption got ta her…"

"Just like your mother?" Ellie questions, her heart ripping in two practically audibly.

"Yessum," his tone drops even lower. "She died soon after, havin' lied an' fought through the first touches of it without a word. She shoulda told me. I coulda saved her, got the doctor… but she left me. She fought like the dickens but… she left this world fer another."

"Sam… I'm so… I'm sorry," Ellie tells him and when Sam turns to actually look at her, tear soaked hazel eyes meeting wet brown ones. "I know how it hurts…"

"Like nothin' else there is," Sam finishes for her. "An' it don't matter what ya do. It'll always hurt. It gets better, it lightens an' kinda just starts to drift, but then there's a day when it comes right back, hauntin' ya so much it's like it won't ever stop."

Ellie nods and her face wrinkles as she falls back into her sobs.

"I miss him, Sam," she tells him. "I just miss him so. And every day I think about him and us…"

"And I miss Jessica too," Sam says honestly. "But I tell ya it gets better. Ya gotta believe me an' fight through. Ya gonna be happy again. I promise it. Someday when you head back home or get real brave an' head west, ya gonna find someone ta make it better."

"What about you?" Ellie questions him, knowing he's been all but a shut in since she's met him.

Sam smiles small and wipes his face with his bare hand. "I ain't just yet ready to find someone. I ain't gonna be no good for a girl when I'mma still cry like a dang baby when I think about my Jessica."

And that's where the guilt hits Ellie extra hard. She isn't crying because she missed Jackson so much this time. She's crying because she didn't for a moment there. She wanted someone else. It was scary and far too soon.

"Sam, uh, you really haven't ever felt anything for another girl since Jessica?" she asks with worry.

Sam laughs. "Don't know if'n ya noticed but I ain't been leaving the farm all that much to meet anyone else."

She nods but her worry remains all over her expression.

"Ellie, ya gonna know when it's ok to move on when it comes. It might take a while but… when it happens it'll be okay," he tries to reassure.

"What if it doesn't take long at all?" she says quietly, almost inaudibly for Sam to hear. He sits and thinks it over for a moment, realizing what she's saying.

"Ya feel guilt, don't ya?" he surmises quickly.

She nods, admitting to all too much all at once.

"Ya know, that's okay too." He turns to face her. "Ya think yer husband would want ya sad every day? Or would he want ya ta be a happy woman?"

"Oh, he'd want me happy," she smiles slightly, knowing it's absolutely true.

"Then be happy," Sam sums it all up. "Just 'cause ya feel somethin' for another don't mean ya don't love Jackson still. It's just… different."

She nods, seeing his point.

"I think Jessica would want me happy soon as I could handle it. I just… I'm havin' a hard time of it. But that's just me an' all."

Ellie lets herself calm a bit since she first felt what she knew was something significant when she spotted Dean half undressed behind the house.

"An' I ain't gonna say anythin'," Sam promises to her. He gives her a look to let her know he's aware of who she's talking about. "I wouldn't do that to ya."

"Do what?" she questions with confusion.

"Wouldn't tell no one about… how you been feelin' towards him." He nods his head to the closed bedroom door. "Not my place to."

"Oh! No! Sam!" she starts to panic, not wanting Dean to know a thing about how she's feeling.

"It's fine…"

"It's not him," she lies before she can stop herself. "It's not… _Dean_." She whispers his name out of fear.

"Oh, no?" Sam questions with utter surprise.

"No, no. He's my employer. That'd be… that'd be mighty inappropriate."

"Huh," Sam says, not believing her for a second. "Coulda sworn there was somethin' there between you two."

And Ellie gets flustered with his comment… and red. Her cheeks flush bright and she feels far too exposed for comfort. "We get along just fine, I will agree to that… but that's all it is."

"Ya know… I wouldn't be mad if'n ya did find yerself enjoyin' Dean's company," Sam gives her this little blessing of his just in case she was scared to be truthful and needed a push. "He's a good man, hard workin' an' quite kind. I know he ain't always the most proper but I blame our daddy fer that. If ya can look past the language an' drinkin'… an' manners…."

"Sam," Ellie interrupts him when he sounds like he's selling his brother to her. He stops and looks to her with hope. "I'm really not looking for anything from your brother."

"Well, alright then," Sam says, not asking who the man really is as he gets up. She's full of shit and he knows it. "Ya need another minute?"

"Please, yes," she answers and he smiles warmly at her.

"It's ok, Ellie," Sam assures her one last time. "Life is short an' ya gotta try an' be happy."

"So do you," she quickly answers back.

He nods once as he shuts the door and leaves her alone again.

Sitting there in the quiet room her mind races. Is there something between her and Dean? All she knew is that she liked how he looked back at the door while he was washing up. She never thought much past it. But maybe Jackson's memory was to blame for her ignoring what she's feeling. She takes the second to really think about it and it starts to make sense why Sam might think there was something there.

She loves her morning breakfast with Dean, especially when Sam gets an early start out and it's just the two of them beginning their day together.

She adores his smile, the sight of it lighting up the room and making her feel better no matter the circumstance.

She finds that when he praises her cooking or her work around the house she damn near gushes with happiness… even if most of the time he's lying about her cooking altogether.

She found herself turned on by simply the sight of his skin.

She was jealous when he visited a whore when they were in town months back and feels that pang of fear every time he's gone to Meeker's since and she doesn't know what happens when he does.

She likes him.

She might even be falling for him.

"Damn it all right to hell," she says in a hushed voice, her head in her hands as she closes her eyes. "The heck is wrong with you, Ellie."

She doesn't realize that she considers herself Ellie now, a name she's only known by in Sioux Falls and by the Winchesters. And mostly by Dean.

* * *

After another few minutes of composing herself, Ellie opens her bedroom door and rejoins her temporary family in the kitchen. The second she walks into the room and Dean sees her he stands up from his chair with anxiety, hat brim wrinkling in his hands.

"Ellie, ya okay there?" Dean quickly asks, his tone filled with total concern.

"I'm just fine, Dean," she says quietly in answer, looking around the room swiftly before letting her sights return to him as he looks just simply anxious. "Really. Don't worry your head about me. I just… got sad. It happens."

"I can understand that," he tells her as Sam smiles their way and walks to the porch to read his book. "It ain't been none too easy fer ya. With Jackson an', an' havin' to live here wit us…"

"Stop," Ellie asks of him. "Ya'll have been so nice. I like living here. That doesn't make me sad."

Dean stares at her with surprise. She's been handed the most raw deal of all time and yet she keeps a smile on her face and an attitude that's positive on most days. He's impressed by her growth. She's just plain impressive in general.

"That's good. 'Cause we like havin' ya here a whole lot." He smiles wide at her. "It gonna be a sad day when ya move on from us, I can tell ya that."

As she can feel her heart just melting with his words, Ellie grins right back, her emotions still rolling with her break down. Her eyes water up a bit with his sweetness and Dean immediately reacts.

"Aw, no," Dean starts to get all upset again. "El, don't do that…."

"It's not sadness," she promises to him, wiping her eyes really quickly. "It was just nice to hear that… ya like having me here. I needed that."

"Anytime," Dean returns with, his hand landing on her shoulder. They take a moment like that, standing close and looking at the other, before Ellie clears her throat. Dean takes his hand back and a steps away from her, remembering their relationship for what it is. Work-related.

"So supper might be a bit late," Ellie mentions, walking to the stove to recover from the moment. Her shoulder feels like it's burning from his touch. She needs to get this in check. He's a mess, he's made it clear he wants no real relationship, and she's a mourning widow with plans to move on come spring. This is not right, none of it, and she just needs to get by until the winter thaws.

"Ya need some help?" Dean asks, at this point just feeling the need to stick around and make sure she's alright.

"Oh, I couldn't ask you for help," Ellie denies him nicely. "I think it's mighty nice of you to offer but you pay me for such things."

"An' since I pay ya I have every right to help ya out if'n I wanna," Dean tells her and walks towards the stove with her. "What ya plan on makin'?"

Looking to her side when he steps up to her, shoulder to shoulder, she grins up at him. "Sausage and beans with cornbread."

"One a' my favorites," he grins right and claps his hands together before rubbing them with excitement. "Tell me what ya need."

* * *

"I'mma turn in," Sam announces to the group on the porch, each with their own rocking chair as they sit out under the stars. "Gotta big day tomorrow."

"Yessum, we sure do," Dean comments right back, tuning his banjo a bit when he can tell it's off. "Harvest day."

"I'll pack a good dinner for ya'll," Ellie tells them when she knows they'll be gone straight through the day for sure. "You're sure to be mighty hungry with all that work."

"Thank ya," Sam says in advance when he grins at her. "I'll leave ya two out here. Have a good night."

"G'night, Sam," Ellie says in parting and he gives her some form of knowing look, one she pretends not to get despite deep down being fully aware that he's leaving them alone for a reason.

A few more moments of fiddling with the instrument and Dean gets an idea. "Ya know what we need?"

"Couldn't tell ya," Ellie replies, a grin on her lips when the playful side of Dean comes out. She really enjoys that side of him. He can be a very fun person when he allow himself to be.

Without a word Dean gets out of his rocking chair and heads inside. Getting the hint, Ellie dog-ears the copy of _The Scarlet Letter_ Sam leant her and puts it on the floor under her chair, scratching Cass behind his floppy ears as she does. He sits by her side on the porch every warm night she spends out there. Once she started in on the training and behavior conditioning Cass took to her like nothing else. They've become fast friends.

"Do ya feel up to?" Dean asks as he walks back outside. When he extends a hand to her he offers what's gripped in it.

"Where've you been hiding this?" she asks when she sees the glass of whiskey he offers. She didn't know there was drink in the house anywhere once the kitchen stock had been drank.

"My room," he answers simply as she takes his offering, pulling his rocker closer to hers before sitting.

"Thought you were getting ready for a big, busy day tomorrow?" Ellie challenges, knowing drinking isn't going to make the start of his day tomorrow very easy.

"I am… but ya had a bad day an' I reckon a little whiskey gonna make it a little better," he replies while leaning over to her and clinking his glass with hers.

He eyes her as they both take a sip, watching her lack of reaction to the harsh liquid.

When she swallows it down, Ellie smiles down at her glass.

"Ya done some drinkin' in yer day?" Dean questions her.

"Why do you ask?"

"Ya barely made a face when ya tasted that. Now, this ain't real good quality stuff. Heck, it could take the shine right off yer shoes… but ya took it like a man."

"This by far is not my first rodeo," Ellie admits lightly, peering at Dean with a mischievous glint out of the corner of her eye.

"Well I'll be damned. Miss Ellie done some drinkin' in her time," Dean lightens up with an amused smile. "If'n that ain't just the best thing I heard in a long time."

"Why do you think that's so great?" she asks, shocked he's getting so much out of the idea that she's drank liquor before.

"'Cause…" he pauses for a moment and glances at her, head to toe, really quickly. "Ya too proper to be a whiskey drinkin' woman."

"Ha!" Ellie lets out a good laugh at his assumption. "You don't know me all that well just yet, Dean."

"Then tell me," Dean says, smiling warmly and happy to hear more about her. He's come to really enjoy her company, a whole lot more than he ever assumed he would when he offered what looked like an uppity woman from the East a job on his farm. She's surprised him greatly with her easy going ways, how quickly she's grown accustomed to their more laid back style, and the little pops of unexpected information about her past.

She swallows hard with the idea that he wants to know more about her. "Well… what do ya wanna know?"

"I wanna know 'bout how well ya know the oh-be-joyful," he asks, his accent thick as he looks at her with pure fun.

"I know it's gotten me into trouble a few times in the past."

"I know that story." Dean laughs quietly into his glass as he takes another sip.

"Do ya now?"

"Yes, ma'am, I reckon I do," he huffs another laugh. "Ya ever go an' toss up yer breakfast into yer hat during church services when ya a kid?"

Her eyes widen and mouth gapes. "No, can't say that I have."

"Yeah, well… I been there."

Ellie laughs good at this and leans over, hand over her mouth as she pictures a young Dean throwing up into his cowboy hat in front of the town during services. "So you went to church as a kid?"

Dean avoids her eyes with the question and ignores it. "So what you know 'bout whiskey drinkin', El?"

She knows better than to press the church issue any more.

"I've done my part. My sister and I got into my daddy's liquor cabinet a few times when we were just youngins. Did our share of getting done over right."

Dean smiles at that idea. "Sam was always too scared to go an' upset dad too much. He ain't never once drank wit me when we was kids."

"Well I do know what getting caught's like so I don't blame him," Ellie's eyes go wide. "Daddy tanned our hides once so dang bad that I couldn't sit for a day."

"Aw, ya got off easy," Dean mentions. Ellie's face drops with what he implies and he feels the sudden need to explain. "My daddy, ya have to remember… he ain't never been right after my momma… passed. His temper ain't the best. I knew it was always best to keep away from angerin' him but sometimes… sometimes I just couldn't help myself."

She nods. "You do seem like you were a real mischievous youngin'."

"Might'a been into some trouble makin'," he agrees with a smile.

"You wouldn't be the only one then," she smirks at him and hides in her glass as she takes a sip.

Dean makes eyes at her, comforted by her subject change and liking her even more now that he knows she hasn't always been the proper lady she's been bred to be. "Oh no?"

"No, sir," she says slowly, grinning ear to ear at him. "I've done my own rebelling."

"I find that hard ta believe, Miss Ellie," Dean jokes with her.

"I'm not the clothing I showed up in. My parents bought me those," she explains. "I'm thinking more and more that I'm truthfully the clothes I'm wearing right now." She looks down at her farm clothes, a nice white button down with pearl buttons and ruffle detailing along with her long, brown skirt.

"I like yer clothes," Dean tells her reassuringly.

"Why… thank you," she flushes pink a moment.

"So tell me something ya done, ya rebellious young lady you." He pokes fun but he really does want to know.

She could explain a few stories, like when she got drunk with the slave children at her plantation on Christmas Eve after she snuck them wine during her father's big town-wide party or she could mention when she got full as a tick at her good friend Cecilia's place when she slept over and then passed out in the backyard shrubbery all night… but she chooses a better one.

"Jackson and I drank far too much about two months before we wed," she starts to explain, knowing how personal this one is and still she keeps talking for some reason. "He took me to this beautiful wooded area an hour out from my plantation. It was mighty gorgeous, the trees so tall and the stars so bright." She closes her eyes. "He had his momma pack a supper for us and we ate together on a blanket. It was so lovely…" She smiles down at her glass again before taking a solid sip, Dean doing the same as he watches her. She clears her throat as she prepares to continue. "He also brought a bottle of wine, or so he thought. He took it quick from his daddy's supply and didn't check the bottle he chose closely enough. Come to find out it was port. Ya ever have port?"

"Can't say I have."

"Good. It's not exactly enjoyable on the way down," she laughs. "But we drank it anyways. And we over did it. That stuff is far stronger than it seems."

"Ya got all dragged out, did ya?"

"Yessum, I sure did." She grins wide, remembering how much fun she had that night, just the two of them. "And… it's sure true what they say. Drinking causes the brain make some funny decisions. Ones I wouldn't make when dried up."

Sitting up taller, Dean's eyes snap onto hers with wide surprise. "What ya sayin', El?"

She just looks at him with something slightly innocent yet totally guilty. Her cheeks are beet-red.

"My word," Dean smiles pleasantly. "The Miss Ellie I know is just a sham, ain't it?"

"Well, aren't you just rude…?"

"An' you ain't the pure young lady I thought ya were," Dean calls her out and she just smiles and blushes furiously. "Hot damn. Ya just full of surprises, El."

"I can't believe I just up and told you that I gave up my purity just months before my wedding," she covers her eyes with her hand, fully embarrassed. "You must think something awful of me now." She laughs.

"I got a spot reserved for me back at Meeker's… an' I got a workin' gal there that be knowing me better an' any other woman ever has. Don't think I'm one ta judge ya."

"You make a good point," Ellie laughs at him nervously, the mention of Meeker's making her stomach flip. She hates that place and hates when he goes there.

He thinks hard for a moment, letting the crickets do all the talking for a bit before speaking his mind.

"Though I been thinkin' 'bout givin' that up," he admits to her, downing a large gulp of his whiskey with it.

"Giving up going to the saloon?" she asks with confusion.

"Oh, heck no," he quickly brushes off. "Nah, I'mma still drink. There ain't no changin' that. I… I mean the girls there. I mean Joanna." He doesn't know why he says her name but he does.

"Joanna's your girl there?" Ellie asks, the green jealousy enveloping her chest as she leans down and pets Cass out of distraction.

"Yeah," Dean tells her, uncomfortable with it. "But… I feel like I done got off track. Ya made a good point when we talked on the way back last time I been wit her."

"That was the last time?" she questions with surprise.

"Yessum, ain't paid her a cent since," he admits. "I just… I'm getting' too old for that mess. I should be focusin' in on my life differently."

"You should be finding yourself a good girl," Ellie tells him, knowing somewhere in her heart that she'd want to be that woman but denying her brain access to that information in order to save herself the pain.

"Maybe I should," he says looking at her with a seriously deep expression. She's mourning still, he knows that, but when she isn't any more he'd hate to see her move on without him. He hates the idea of her moving back home when the winter thaws and him never seeing her ever again. And he can't deal with the idea of some other man ever getting to have her again.

And suddenly Ellie is highly uncomfortable with him again. What is he implying? What the hell does he expect from her? Her husband just died…

"And I'm sure you will," she plasters her well-practiced fake smile onto her face. "You are a very good man, Dean. And you have a very good heart. Any girl would be lucky to have you… if you're done with the saloon girls, I mean."

"I am, I swear it," he says, holding up his right hand in oath.

"Good."

He sips his whiskey and looks at her as she lets her eyes fall anywhere but on him. He knows he might have gone too far with that one.

"But I ain't exactly lookin' right this second," Dean adds on. "I think I'll just… be fer a while."

"I think that's a lovely idea," Ellie smiles and relaxes.

"An' maybe just enjoy the company I'm in since I'm fortunate enough ta have it at all," Dean looks over at her, soft and nervous grin in place. "I like havin' ya 'round. I know them saloon girls make ya upset so, fer right now, while ya wit us… I just wanna be here. Knowin' ya. Ya been a good friend, El. An' I think ya make me a better version a' myself."

Ellie just stares at him with the widest brown eyes he's ever seen.

"I said too much?" Dean asks with concern.

A hand over her mouth when her eyes water for the millionth time in one day, she shakes her head no. "Dean, ya said just enough."

He grins small and looks back down to his glass. Before he can take a sip he can feel her hand land on his, prying it off the rocking chair arm and into his. She's bold. He likes that.

When he looks over to her she's staring right at him. "I thought today was a bad day. Terrible, really. But your words, your company… You've been a real good friend to me too… right when I've needed nothing but a real good friend."

Grabbing her hand a little tighter, Dean settles in like that. They sit there for another half hour, slowly sipping whiskey while hand in hand, looking out over the stars. It's comfortable and comforting to know that they have that, that they each have an unlikely friend when they _both_ truly needed one.

* * *

"I'mma call it," Dean suddenly announces to his brother when he drops his sickle heavily to the ground mid-field and looks up at the sun straight over his head. It's about noon, maybe a little after, and he and Sam have been working outright since dawn.

"Call what?" Sam asks, gathering one last bundle-worth of wheat and preparing to tie it.

"Call dinner time," Dean smiles wide, walking towards the fence at the edge of the field where there's a bit of shade from a big old tree. They left their pales there, the ones Ellie prepared for them while they ate breakfast in the dark of the pre-sunrise morning.

Sam shakes his head with Dean's always food oriented focus and finishes up his job before heading that way with Dean. By the time he gets there his brother looks like a child on Christmas morning. Treasures all around him as he has everything opened from their cloth napkins, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Ah, she's a keeper, that Ellie," Dean jokes as he peers up at Sam, his back against the tree as he takes the thick slice of cheese and piece of crusty bread she made a few days before. "Look." He points at his dessert. "Left over apple cake. My favorite." Dean grins something beyond happy as he leans back heavily, yanking his hat off as he takes a bite of bread.

"Ain't every kinda cake or pie yer favorite?" Sam huff a small laugh as he plops down onto the grass, back pressing to the tree trunk next to Dean and looking back at the farm house.

"Yessum, an' she knows that," Dean smirks, elbowing Sam. "Ain't ya glad I got her here after all?"

"Yeah, I am," Sam agrees all too easily as he starts to open his own pail of food. When he sees the green apple at the bottom of it he smiles. There was one apple left in the house and, as much as Ellie loves her apples, she gave it to him for his long day of work. She's so nice.

"Mm, I'mma go as far as say I'm a genius," Dean comments, mouthful of bread and cheese.

"I wouldn't, but I'll say ya smart," Sam compromises as he takes a bite of the tart, Granny Smith apple while looking at the house. He sees Cass come bounding out of the back door, his fur flying. Soon after Ellie follows him out, placing a large basket of soiled clothing by the wash basin as it's laundry day. As she pauses to play with Cass and run through his well-known commands, Sam smiles. "How late ya stay up last night?"

"Not too sure," Dean answers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to rid it of crumbs. "Had a couple glasses a' whiskey an' called it a night."

"Ya seemed to have fun," Sam mentions.

"Yeah, I did. El's real easy ta talk to. An' come ta find out, she ain't half bad neither," Dean mentions, grabbing a piece of beef jerky from one of the napkins. "Did ya know she used ta steal whiskey from her daddy ta go off an' git half overseas wit the slave kids?"

"Really?" Sam asks with wide eyes as he looks over to Dean.

"Swear on it," he holds up his hand. "An' she told me 'bout how she done tried ta git her daddy to pay the slaves on their land 'fore ol' Abe made it a law to. She's alright, Sam. I'm tellin' ya. She ain't the uppity lady I thought she was when she got here. Matter a' fact… she might be more like me 'an we ever woulda assumed, ha."

"Huh," Sam says while thinking and watching Ellie scrub their clothing, her loose pieces of hair blowing in the wind with her brown skirt.

"Yeah," Dean says, clearly impressed by her.

"So… I need ta ask ya…"

"What?"

Sam sighs, watching Ellie work like she's always been on a farm. She hangs each item on the line out back once cleaned, petting Cass and tossing a stick for him every now and then. And she smiles the whole time. "What're we gonna do when she up an' leaves us when winter thaws on out."

Dean stays quiet, stilling mid-chew with the idea. He's been completely dreading that moment many months off but since he's realized what a good friend she's become and how much he enjoys her company the thought has all but haunted him. "Dunno… find us a new gal to work the property?"

"Ya wanna just replace her? Easy like that?" Sam challenges.

"What choice we got here, Sam?"

"I'm guessin' none if she wanna leave," Sam replies. "But… I was just thinkin'…."

"Go on ahead an' spit it out, Sammy." Dean can tell he's got a thought waiting to burst out.

"What if we ask her ta stay?"

"We can't ask her ta do that," Dean denies immediately.

"Why not?"

"'Cause… she got family back East. This ain't her home."

"An' if'n this _was_ her home?" Sam turns just slightly, peeking at his brother out of the corner of his eye with curiosity.

Dean gives Sam one very confused look. "Her home is back East."

"Yeah, she grew up there an' all… but what if she found her new home here?" Sam keeps pushing the issue, knowing Dean might be needing the nudge to come to terms with things.

Dean gives Sam a still confused look and Sam knows he's got to be clearer. The denial is strong in his brother.

"Dean… she likes it here. Look at her," Sam tells him, pointing to the woman in the distance.

Dean looks her over, her smiling face as she talks to Cass, her voice just making it to them without being clear enough to know what she's saying. She does look awfully happy.

"An' she's great," Sam says. "She's kind an' good hearted. She done made this house of ours a lot nicer."

"Didn't know our place could look so good," Dean admits.

"An' she ain't even half bad at cookin' no more."

"I'd go as far as ta say she good at it on some days," Dean nods his head, observing her scrubbing away at one of his shirts. "An' she can bake like the dickens."

"An' she's real pretty," Sam nods, giving Dean a look to say he's understating it.

"Fine as cream gravy, that gal," Dean says, the corner of his mouth quirking up as she stands tall in the distance, shaking out his clothing and pinning it up on the line. "Beautiful, really. She gonna make some guy real happy someday… when she ready an' all."

"An' why ain't it that yer that some guy again?" Sam finally says it, forcing Dean to explain himself.

Dean's eyes snap to Sam. "What ya sayin'?"

"I didn't make it clear as a stream just now?" Sam replies with narrowed eyes.

"No, no. No way, no how, Sam." Dean shakes his head, not accepting this idea at all.

"Why not?"

"'Cause." Dean shrugs.

"'Cause why?"

"'Cause a lot a' things."

"Name one thing," Sam challenges immediately.

"She just up an' done lost her husband," Dean says his first worry. "That ain't proper ta be goin' after a woman after somethin' like that. It too soon."

"But it won't be too soon forever," Sam points out.

"But it too soon now," Dean replies right back with growing anger.

To this Sam nods. "Ok. Gimme another."

"Ya need more!?" Dean asks with surprise and Sam just smiles, answering yes. "Well, how 'bout the fact that she a proper woman from the East."

"What's that matter?" Sam spits back, already upset with his reasoning.

"She's way too good a girl fer me an' ya know it," Dean says to her. "What would she ever want wit a farmer that ain't got any education an' is older an' dirt by marryin' standards?"

"Ya ain't that old…" Sam starts to deny but Dean cuts him off.

"Sammy, I'm pushing twenty-seven. That ain't no spring chicken," he points out. "An' she can't be no more 'an twenty-two…."

"She's twenty," Sam informs him.

"An' what a twenty year old girl gonna want wit a' old man like me?"

"It ain't about age difference, nitwit," Sam name calls. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind it one bit."

Dean just shakes his head. "Nah, it ain't never gonna be like that, Sam."

"I'm still lookin' fer a good reason why not."

"I ain't got nothing ta offer her," Dean admits his shortcomings. "She ain't some western gal wit but a buck to her name. She's a high falutin' society gal. She knows fine clothin' an' good manners an' money. Plantation money. I ain't got none of that."

"An' neither do she right now!" Sam reminds him.

"She got money back home…"

"That she gave right on up," Sam explains something he knows Ellie hasn't told Dean. "Ya know, I been getting' a lot a' information outta her when you sleep in late an' we eat breakfast just us two."

"What she tell ya?" Dean perks up, suddenly very interested.

"Jackson wasn't no educated an' rich man. He was a carpenter," Sam starts to explain, Dean's eyes glued to him. "Her daddy didn't like him as he was hopin' she'd marry the son of a lawyer studyin' at law school in Charlotte. She went against his wishes, told her daddy no… an' she went off and married Jackson 'cause she loved him."

"That right there takes some brass balls," Dean replies, impressed by the woman he can see doing laundry off in the distance.

"And it only cost her a damn near fortune," Sam keeps going. "Her father cut her outta her inheritance. She got left dead broke with a 'good luck' on account of her fallin' in love an' followin' her heart."

"Dang," Dean awes with the story. "So she really ain't got no money?"

"Nope. Gave it all up. An' I'm thinkin' that if'n she was married to a carpenter then a granger ain't exactly a terrible option fer her."

"Huh," Dean thinks aloud as he watches her more, shocked yet again by the things he's learned about her.

"I'm just sayin'…"

"Ya said enough, Sam," Dean tells him, eyes never leaving Ellie as she works. "She ain't never gonna want me. An' if she wants to go back home then I ain't got no right to ask her ta stay."

"But if ya just talk to her…"

"Stop," Dean punches out. "Ya ain't playin' cupid on me an' ya gonna leave that poor girl alone. She belongs at home. If she go back then maybe, now that she ain't married, she can git hitched right, have a good life wit wealth even. I ain't gonna be the reason she don't live easy."

"She was headin' to Oregon to start new when she got here. She had no intentions of making life easy…"

"Enough!" Dean yells at his brother. "Ya knock it off right now. Ellie an' I ain't never gonna be a thing because I like her _alive_. Now eat yer dang apple 'fore I shove it down yer gullet."

Sam doesn't say a word to him at first. He didn't see that coming. Sure, the Winchester men have a bad track record with women and staying alive but Dean views it as hopeless for him. "Yer scared of losing her?"

"I _will_ lose her if I make her more 'an a employee," Dean points out. "You an' dad proved that fer me just fine. Any girl that be dumb enough to be with either of us is just waitin' on the reaper. I ain't never gonna do that ta no poor girl."

"Yer never gonna try to even find a good woman because ya just know she's gonna die if ya do?" Sam questions with audacity in Dean's plan.

"Damn straight," Dean grumps, his anger getting to him as he realizes he really won't ever give anything with Ellie a chance. He would never recover if something were to happen to that so sweet and beautiful girl. She's too good for his mess.

"Jesus… Dean, ya can't really think that way…"

"Alright," Dean says, shoving everything back into his pail and plopping it under the tree. "Dinner's 'bout done fer me." Dean gets up and heads back into the field to get back to work, not looking to keep this conversation going. He's angry that his life is what it is and he even madder that Sam tried to push him so badly. He'll live his life how he sees fit and his brother can just shut up about it. After all, he doesn't complain about Sammy being a total shut in, does he?

And what's worse than all that… his chest physically hurts now that he's come to see that he does want Ellie. He truly does. She's beautiful and smart and so funny she gets him doubled over in pain sometimes. He feels like a better person and like life is so good, so easy when she's around.

But he can't have her. He'll never let that happen.

With fire in his eye he picks up his sickle and starts swinging like he's never swung before.

* * *

Harvest done after a few days and all wheat bundled and stacked onto two packed wagons, one borrowed from a neighboring farm, and Sam and Dean went into town for the night. Ellie found herself excited for the night alone… until it happened.

She figured it'd be nice. No men bickering or making a mess, no one's taste buds to please but her own, and she could read without Dean wanting to chat. But the second they traveled out of sight an emptiness filled her chest.

Playing with Cass didn't help and cooking didn't change anything. Neither did reading her book on the porch with the lovely august breeze rolling through. Nothing felt right. She didn't get a sense of serenity and calm and quiet. She instead experienced unnerving silence and loneliness. It's so lonesome on the large property when it's just her.

So the next day, when she could hear the wagons coming up the long dirt path to the house, Ellie all but grinned ear to ear. Sure, Dean's been inexplicably colder and quieter the past couple days of the harvest but she's still excited to see him and Sam, weirdness and all.

"Howdy!" Ellie grins wide as she waves as Sam rolling past in his wagon.

"Afternoon, ma'am," he jokes and tips his hat at her before making it to the barn.

Dean rolls by next and Ellie's grin wide. "Howdy, cowboy!"

Dean just nods in her direction before ignoring her, looking solely at the barn ahead.

"Odd," Ellie says under her breath before walking to meet them out back to help with the horses.

Once inside she sees the horses already put away.

"Hope you men worked up a heck of an appetite," she smiles and walks towards them as Sam fetches water for the horses and Dean forks over hay.

"Ya make a welcome back dinner?" Sam asks with hope.

"'Course I did!" Ellie laughs. "It was mighty quiet up here all on my lonesome. Had to do somethin' so I cooked."

Dean doesn't even look at her with this information. Usually she'll receive a big proclamation about how excited he is to eat or about how he's hoping she baked him some really delicious dessert but instead she gets nothing,

And Ellie chooses to once more ignore his strange attitude lately, ever since that first day of harvest. "So, ya make out as well as ya hoped to?"

"Sure did," Sam assures her. "With yer help we near doubled our profit this year."

"Bully on ya, boys!" Ellie congratulates with impressed excitement for them. "That's some good news right there."

"Here," Dean cuts in and walks to her, reaching into his pocket to hand over a small leather pouch jingling with coins. "Yer cut."

"Oh," Ellie says, surprised to get paid so quickly and abruptly.

"It's more 'an I figured in April but ya earned it," Dean explains the excess money in a serious, flat tone. "Ya got plenty to git ya home in the spring an' then some."

Ellie's face drops completely. "Right. I can get home again."

"Yeah, I reckon that was the point 'a all this," Dean further pushes the point. "An' Bobby says he can help ya set up transport back East. He knows people. He said to just stop in when ya ready."

"Oh… um…" Ellie flounders with this. He wants her out, clearly. But she doesn't know if she wants out. She's comfortable here, safe and happy. But maybe it's just her. "I'll do that. Thank you, Dean."

He nods to her sans expression and walks back for the house. End of discussion.

"Ellie… that don't mean we're itchin' ta git ya out…" Sam starts but Ellie interrupts his lame and empty apologies.

"This was the plan all along, wasn't it?" she turns to him and says. "I need to… head back."

"You don't have to," Sam reminds her. Ellie simply looks out the big double doors of the red barn at the back of Dean's form walking away from her in the dusk of night.

"Yeah… I really do," is all Ellie can think to say when she thinks she understands Dean loud and clear. He's done his best these past couple days to ruin the good they had between them.

But she just doesn't want to go home. She left for a reason.

That night Ellie made sure that her crying was quieter, not wanting the men to know how upsetting leaving is to her, especially with how badly Dean obviously wants her gone.


	28. The Promise of the West (Part 7)

**December, 1867**

"Merry Christmas!" Ellie greets warmly when she hears footsteps coming down from the second floor. She doesn't care which brother it is, as long as she gets to surprise one of them.

"'Mornin'," Dean groggily answers as he comes around the corner, wiping his eyes and then patting down his bed-crazy hair. "Ya alright?" he as to ask when he catches the tired look in her eyes.

"Oh, I'm fine," she brushes aside his worry. She knows she looks tired. "I just got up real early to get goin' on this fine day."

When he finally catches sight of the kitchen and sitting room he stops in his track. "What the heck ya do?"

"I made Christmas!" Ellie grins warmly as she slices up the coffee cake she baked, one of Dean's favorites, for breakfast.

"Ya celebrate Christmas?" he questions her, never having seen such a thing. "Ain't that just some Pagan stuff?"

"What!? No, hush!" Ellie says with upset. "This is a celebration of the birth of Jesus, Dean. This is not Pagan. This is good Christian beliefs."

"My daddy used ta say it Pagan."

"Well my daddy used ta tell me about Santa Clause so don't you go ruinin' this for me," she warns seriously, wagging her finger at him. "It's a good day, the Lord was born, and I feel like we need to cheer up 'round here now that we're confined in one small spot for winter. We need ta celebrate."

Her cheery outlook and happy disposition is near shocking. She's been off a bit since he paid her back in August. Before then they were friends, life being easy and light when around her. When he paid her and told her he found her a way home everything changed. She made it clear through her frequent retreats to her room during free time and her lack of speaking to him. But not right now. She's different. She's smiling and she looks like the woman he knew over the summer. He hates to admit it even to himself but he missed her terribly.

"Celebrate, huh?" Dean answers back skeptically.

"Uh-huh."

"Me an' Sam, we ain't done that too much."

"You boys haven't celebrated Christmas before?" she asks, looking at him with something sad in her expression.

"Nah," Dean answers, walking around her to grab his usual tin mug and pour himself the coffee he can smell is already brewed. "Not too common 'round here."

"What a shame," Ellie laments and watches him plop into a seat at the table heavily, sleep still in his eyes. "I've never skipped a Christmas in my life. This may be the first time I'm not home to for it but I don't care a continental about that. Momma or no momma, I'mma carry on like always even without her."

"That include lots 'a food?" he asks her, a small ounce of hope in his voice as he looks down into his coffee.

"I'm not too sure 'lots' is the right word for it," she laughs and walks to him with his plate. She places it in front of him, a massive slice of coffee cake and nothing else on the plate. She normally tries to get fruit in his diet if they could manage to get some that week or maybe even some vegetable despite how much he hates those things. But not today. "I promise. You and Sam will be a happy men today."

He looks up at her, her smile just so warm, and his resolve to stay strong and keep her at arm's length gets challenged once more.

Dean just smiles in return before Ellie turns back around to the stove, a place he assumes she'll be at a lot that day just to ensure her bosses are happy. She cares. He hates when she reminds him of that so clearly.

"Aren't ya'll gonna ask about those socks of yours?" Ellie finally asks after half a day of waiting for them to notice. After breakfast the men went to care quickly for the animals out back and retrieve Cass for Ellie. She insisted that the dog spend the day warm and in the presence of his family for Christmas. She hates that they keep him out back and she's slowly trying her damnedest to get his new place to be in the house like she wants.

"Huh," Sam mentions, looking up from his book to see that one of his socks is tacked to the wooden mantle on one side, Dean's on the other, and they're filled with something. "Look at that."

"Ya'll are impossible," Ellie laughs to herself as Sam marks his book and sets it aside, Dean dropping his piece of wood and knife he's been whittling with.

"What did ya do?" Dean asks, his face slightly concerned.

"I didn't do anything," she says with fake innocence. "Santa musta come right down that chimney and left two good boys their gifts." She gives him a wide eyed grin of excitement.

"Ya shouldn't've done that," he denies instantly, slightly upset. "Ya shouldn't be spendin' yer hard earned money on us."

Ellie scoffs at him. "You spend your hard earned money on me, don't ya?" she points out as that's their actual agreement. She works for them and they pay her money.

"She makes a good point there," Sam smiles at her while pulling Dean's sock off the mantle.

"No she don't," Dean says right back. "She supposed to be savin' ta git on home in some months."

"I've got plenty to get me home," Ellie answers back, her face dropped to something serious now as he's bordering on insulting her. "I chose to use some of my hard earnings ta give you both a good day… which I believe you deserve. Button that lip of yours and take those gifts gracefully before I smack ya upside the head for being downright rude."

Things may not have been as easy with them as of late but Ellie is still not at all afraid to correct him when he's more than out of line. He knows she'd march right over to him from her rocking chair in the corner with Cass under her legs and do just as she threatened.

Dean glares at her until Sam interrupts him.

"Here," Sam says, handing Dean his sock. "Ya might wanna do what she says 'cause she right as rain will do what she promises."

Dean snatches the sock and clenches his jaw with annoyance. He hates the idea of her spending her money on him… especially when it never occurred to him to go as far as spend money on her. He's never done this whole Christmas thing before. "Don't be expectin' nothin' in return. Ya didn't tell us you were doin' gifts."

"That is not what this is about," Ellie short of scolds him. "This is about me wanting ta say thank you for all ya'll have done for me. Every day you give me food to cook and a bed ta sleep in when I don't have a dang thing else in this world. You give me plenty every day. Now, let me give ya what little I can manage on a day that means a whole lot to me. And I ain't gonna have this conversation again."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Dean stares at her for a moment, his face finally softening when he realizes how much this meant to her. Damn it, why does she have to be so kind and always have an answer for his challenges? It's frustrating.

"Aw, Ellie," Sam cuts into Dean's thoughts. "This here is great." He smiles up at her while holding up a small bound book of poetry as the two had bonded over their love for the art through the months.

"It's got that one I remembered from being a kid I was telling you about."

"The Yeats one ya momma used to read ya?" Sam says with wide eyes right before looking down at the pocket-sized book with small text, flipping through it.

"Yeah." Ellie grins wide as she knows Sam was excited to read this one.

"I been wantin' ta read that ever since ya spoke 'bout it."

"I know," she says with pride. "And ya better keep digging in that sock. You aren't done yet."

Sam looks to her with shock and reaches back into the sock and pulls out a small stack of parchment paper strung together by hand with red threading.

"I expect you to get going on some poetry of your own now," Ellie grins with sheer excitement. They discussed how Sam had always wanted to try his hand at writing poetry but never had the guts or the drive to actually try. "No excuses."

"Yes ma'am," Sam grins wide at her in promise.

"And I got an ink well for ya," she explains. "It just didn't fit in your sock."

"Ellie, wow," Sam gets up quickly and rushes over to her. "This was too much an' just so nice. Thank ya so much." He leans down and gives her a hug where she sits in her rocking chair.

"You're very welcome, Sam," Ellie responds. "You've been real good company and a real good friend. If I coulda gotten you more… I woulda."

"This is more 'an enough," Sam assures her and backs away, huffing a laugh of amusement. "I just… thanks."

Ellie only smiles at him as he retakes his seat by the roaring fireplace, ready to start reading his new book. She then turns her attention to Dean as he's observing Sam and his happiness despite his own sock being full in his lap. "Your turn, Dean." The moment she says that she erupts in a coughing fit.

"Ellie, ya alright?" Dean asks her, eyes glued to her and alarm all over his face.

Ellie holds her hand out to stop him when he starts to get up and shakes her head no. "I'm fine," she says and coughs a couple more times. "I'm just fine." Her coughing calms down and she clears her throat. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Ya sick, ain't ya?" Dean says, knowing he was right when he saw her first thing in the morning. She looked tired, eyes bleary, and she never looks less than bright and well even first thing with dawn.

"Oh, just a touch of coryza or something. Don't get all up in arms."

"Ellie… ya sure ya alright?" Dean questions, looking at her while only assuming she's lying. There's something in him nagging him and telling him she's lying.

"I am. Now sit and open up that sock there," she grins, not ready to ruin a good day with a cough.

He glances at her suspiciously before looking down, silently praying for whatever it is in that sock to be cheap and typical… not as close to the heart as Sam's. He reaches in and pulls out the first thing he feels.

"What's this?" Dean asks, a small brick shaped item wrapped in paper and twine in his hand.

"How about ya open it?" she says impatiently with his far too cautious ways.

Pulling the twine off and unraveling the paper he looks at the treasure in it.

"It's chocolate," she says to him, in case he didn't know already. "My momma gave me chocolate every Christmas in my sock because it's just the greatest treat in the world. Since you like food so much, and ya got a sweet tooth, I figured you'd love it too."

"Huh," Dean says, looking it over. "I ain't never had chocolate 'fore."

"Well then I'mma just let you decide how ya wanna eat it."

"Ya can't just eat it?"

"Oh no," Ellie shakes her head. "It's far too bitter since that's close to pure. I can make something with it, like hot cocoa with milk or maybe I can bake something for ya with it. You just let me know what ya think and I'll whip it up."

Dean huffs a laugh and looks back down at the dark brown bar. Chocolate. How about that?

"Keep going," Ellie grins and gets his focus back.

Dean rewraps the sweet and sets it aside, reaching for another gift. His hand wraps around something and when he pulls it out he's shocked at what he sees. The smooth, polished wooden handle sits perfectly in his palm and when he opens the two blades tucked into it one at a time he sits in awe. A pocket knife. He told her he wanted one back in the summer when he had to walk all the way back into the house every time he needed a knife out in the field. He said someday he's going to suck it up and buy a pocket knife but he never did.

"Figured you never were gonna get yerself one and I would have to do it for ya," Ellie says, nervous look in place.

"I, uh…" Dean tries to say something but he can't. He's just too touched by the well thought out gift. And his ability to speak disappears a little more when he looks over the handle. His initials are carved into it beautifully.

Ellie smirks to herself when he clears his throat with difficulty. She knows he's not the most emotional man, feeling awkward when his feelings come into play. She's respected that, knowing that a lack of female role model would do that to anyone. But seeing him squirm is quite fun.

"I think you're trying to say thank you," Ellie slightly taunts.

"How much ya go spendin' on this?" Dean questions, sounding almost fatherly.

"Boy… you are possibly the most gracious man alive, Dean Winchester," Ellie says with pure sarcasm.

"I just feel funny 'bout ya spending money on me. I worry 'bout ya… is all."

"You worry about me?" she questions, a very overjoyed smile playing at her lips.

"Yeah…" Dean says when he realizes what he said. "'Bout ya getting home and bein' able ta afford things ya need. I don't want ya spendin' that on me an' Sam."

"Speak for yerself," Sam comments as he looks through his book.

"It's my money," Ellie reminds him. "I used it how I wanted and it made me happy to do it. There's nothing you can do about it now so might as well say thank you and get right on over it."

The way she looks at him reminds him of just how stubborn and independent she can be… and how much he admires that about her.

"Thank ya very much, El," Dean says with a small smile before folding the knife back up and pocketing it right where he knows he'll always keep it. "It was mighty thoughtful 'a ya."

"You're very welcome, Dean," Ellie smiles wider than wide to hear him use her nickname that only he ever uses. It's been rare since he paid her that he's used it. She's missed it, honestly. "And check that sock one more time."

"Ellie…" Dean start to get upset. She spent too much already.

"It's a free, homemade gift. Calm yourself right down."

Dean closes his mouth and reaches in. He pulls out a piece of paper with a hand written note on it.

"Read it," she smirks with excitement.

Dean looks annoyed, sighs heavily, and gives it a go. "I.O.U. H-h-hoe-me… home-mad…"

"Homemade," Ellie corrects his pronunciation, sitting up taller when he takes too long to read the one word. Her eyebrows knit together with concern. He's never read anything aloud in her presence before.

"Pi-pie… w-w-hen…"

"Homemade pie when you want," Ellie helps him out. "I figure you give me a day's heads up and I'mma make a pie for ya… whatever you want that's in season. I noticed pie was your favorite of what I make for dessert."

"It is," Dean nods, looking at her and surprised by her ability to read him. "I love pie."

"Well ya got one all to yourself when you're ready for it."

"Thank ya, Ellie," he says, eyes renewed and looking a lot like they did in the summer. He's melting for her again, letting the tough shield slip away a little bit.

"Um, Dean… ah, has anybody ever taught you to read properly?" Ellie questions the man in his later twenties that she's been living with for months. She'd never seen him read a word before now, always assuming it wasn't something he enjoyed, and now that she has she worries that he's lacking in ability.

His face drops with embarrassment. "Sam here done tried when we were younger."

"What happened with that?" Ellie looks to Sam questioningly.

"Dean got all up in a fit when it wasn't easy," Sam explains. "Every time we sat and tried ta get some learnin' done he'd get mad and quit on the first word he had difficulties wit."

"I ain't none too patient sometimes," Dean says, rubbing the back of his neck when he blushes just a bit. "'Specially when it my younger brother tryin' ta teach me. That ain't right."

"What _ain't right_ was daddy not lettin' you go ta school wit me," Sam points out to him. "It wasn't right that I had ta be the one ta teach ya instead 'a some schoolmarm like it's supposed ta be."

"Dad needed help…"

"Ya needed ta learn," Ellie cuts in, voice gentle. "It's your right to get an education."

"Ya weren't there, Ellie," Dean reminds her that she has no place commenting. "Ya don't know 'bout it."

"You're right. I'm sorry." She looks down at her hands clasped in her lap. "It's not right of me to speak on the issue."

Dean nods and accepts her apology.

"But I'd like to help you."

He looks at her with surprise. "Ya wanna teach me ta read good?"

"Would love to," Ellie grins that warm, comforting smile that she has that he adores seeing. "I wanted to be a schoolmarm, didn't I? Now I can be."

"Ya gonna be my teacher?" Dean says with a little disbelief.

"If'n you'll have me." She gives him one very hopeful look, biting her bottom lip with the idea of helping him the best way she knows how.

"That's a good idea, Dean," Sam adds in his two cents. "She'll be patient wit ya, make ya stay put longer 'an I ever could."

Dean pauses a moment. "Will ya let me think it over? 'Cause I'mma bit old ta be getting' my first schoolmarm."

"Dean, all old dogs can learn new tricks," she assures him and leans down to pet Cass on the head. "Didn't this here dog prove that to you?"

"That he might've," Dean agrees, still shocked by Cass' improvement with her around.

"So you let me know what ya decide," Ellie grins. "And I hope you say a big ol' yes."

"Alright," Dean says, letting her know he'll seriously think it all over.

Dean sighs and looks back down at the note. He knows certain words by sight; seed, general, store, Meeker's, inn… and sounding things out isn't completely foreign. But he really couldn't pick up a book and enjoy it. Sam always looked so happy reading and now that Ellie lives there she always does too. Maybe there's something to this reading well thing.

"But before ya start makin' me a smart man… ya gonna make me a full one," Dean tells her, standing up and handing back the I.O.U. right away. "Ya gonna make me a pie."

"Save that," Ellie pushes the paper back to him. "Already done for today. Dried apple pie ready to be baked. Save that for another day. I'll be here a bit longer."

Dean nods and pockets the note for another time, trying to remember that this claim needs to be called in far before April.

Maybe it was the kind gifts she gave him. Or possibly the fact that she's been going out of her way to give them this celebration they've never experienced before. More likely, it's the way she's smiled all morning, the genuine one that she isn't faking. She's looks beautiful and he's forgotten about how much he loves seeing that bright, wide grin on her pretty face while denying his predilections towards her these past months.

Whatever it is, Dean feels compelled to be near her today. He's been able to deny this pull to her he experiences every day for the past few months but something in him is breaking with her generosity and their close quarters in the winter. With the biting cold and snow on the ground, getting away by going outside isn't an option. It's been torture to be so near her and ignore his want to be her friend.

"Howdy," Dean quietly says as he walks into the kitchen area, his demeanor hesitant with his lack of easy conversation with her.

"Oh, uh," Ellie turns to look at him walk behind her. "Howdy… Dean." She forces a smile when she has no idea what he's doing. Usually he putters about the house silently, never speaking a word to her, or at least since August's harvest he has.

"How ya… how ya doin' in here?" Dean asks, taking his half full glass of whiskey to the shelf where he keeps a bottle.

"Going well enough," she tells him as she places a batter filled pan into the wood stove to bake. "Got a chicken Sam butchered the other day ready to cook. And we're having gold cake for dessert. I just gotta get some preserves from the root cellar to go wit it."

"Thought you said pie?"

"I mighta made both… since you love dessert so much…." She ducks her head, blushing a little at the confession that she did something purely for him.

"Sounds lovely," Dean grins to her as he freshens up his drink.

Ellie watches with confusion as Dean pours more whiskey into his half-full glass. He didn't need a refill yet. He came in for no reason other than to speak with her. Ellie turns back to the oven before grinning wide over the thought.

"So… whacha gonna make me wit chocolate?" Dean asks, leaning his shoulder against the wall by the stove, trying to remain casual as he watches her work.

"Whatcha want?" Ellie smiles with excitement just to have any ounce of easy conversation about anything at all with him.

"Whacha suggest?" he says right back, sipping his whiskey while looking right at her.

"Hmm," Ellie thinks it over. "I could do some hot chocolates. We got some milk left from all the baking I did… or, oh! I could just melt it down, mix it with some sugar and cream… make chocolate sauce for that gold cake. Oh my gosh, that's it! You're gonna love it!"

"Yeah?" Dean asks, smiling back at her with her childlike excitement.

"Yes! Oh, this will be so good you're never gonna wanna get rid of me!" she laughs slightly and turns away, reaching for the cupboard with the sack of sugar as she hides away the shock on her face for saying such a statement. Why did she have to let that one slip on such a good day?

Dean just huffs an awkward laugh when he doesn't know what else to do. As she starts to put everything together he backs away a step and looks around the room feeling odd. He occupies himself with checking out her decorative touches. Pinecones and evergreen on the mantle in the room adjoining the kitchen, the socks over the fireplace, and one oddly placed bundle of green leaves and white berries above the stove where Ellie is working.

"What's that up there?" Dean questions her.

"What?" she asks, following his eye line to the ceiling. "Oh! You've never seen mistletoe before!?"

"That plant we got out by the barn?"

"Yessum. It's a Christmas tradition. My momma always put one bunch over the kitchen back home as her little joke on Christmas."

"I don't get it," Dean tells her with a small smile in the corners of his lips, seeing her happiness.

"It was like she was saying to kiss her because she was cooking people sweets all day. She would tell every one of us that passed her to kiss the cook."

"Kiss?" he wonders with surprise. "Why kiss?"

"That's what you do under mistletoe. You gotta kiss the person under it."

Dean's eyes widen with that idea as he stands next to her while she's under the mistletoe. She can see the connotation she just made immediately.

"I mean, it was more a way to remind me of home than anything," she nervously excuses. "I'm not saying you gotta… ya know, _kiss me_ or anything." She's blushing furiously now. "It's just a silly tradition."

She laughs with pure awkwardness but before Dean knows what he's doing he's leaning forward. Without stepping too far into her space he presses his lips to hers. There's nothing lustful or overdone about it. Just a simple, sweet kiss that lasts all of two seconds before he pulls back and just stares at her with wide-eyed surprise, her brown eyes doing the same right back.

Neither move for a solid minute.

"I'm mighty sorry fer that," Dean says with an innocence that just melts her heart. "That was wrong 'a me… I think…"

"No!" Ellie immediately stops him, stepping forward and pressing her hands to his chest to stop his worried. "You just followed the rules of Christmas. No harm's been done, Dean."

She grins at him, looking up with a warm smile. That icy, hardened wall he built around his heart to keep her out starts to melt away.

"Ha," Ellie huffs a nervous laugh and pulls her hands away from him. She then turns back to the stove for a moment, biting her bottom lip with how much her stomach just fluttered with excitement. "Um, if you have that chocolate I can get to work with it."

"Yeah… uh, I'll go get that." Dean swallows the fear of whatever it is he felt just then down.

"Thank you," she turns and glances at him.

"Not at all," he responds and leaves the room. The second he leaves Ellie has to fight the girlish giggle she has in her throat, the moment just too adorable and just so wonderful. And for the first time she doesn't feel bad about it.

After a massive dinner with far too much food and a night of whiskey and good company, Ellie is exhausted. She knows she must be coming down with a cold. She's been warm for a few days and the cough keeps showing up now and then. And now, after cooking all day, she's ready for sleep.

"If ya'll don't mind I think I'll turn in for the night," she says to the two men as she stands up from her rocking chair, Cass standing immediately from his place on the floor next to her. He hasn't left her side all day.

"Already?" Sam asks, looking up from his book she gave him as he's sitting by the warm fire.

"Yessum. I'm mighty tired from all the excitement of the day," she laughs a little. "Need to get some rest before tomorrow."

"Well, alright," Dean says, a little disappointed. He was enjoying her company.

"Good night, men," she smiles warmly and turns to head to her room. Cass follows her as always and this time she lets him stay in the house. She doesn't ask for permission, knowing they'd just send him on his way to the barn. Her plan is to make them see he's a good dog that should stay inside with them.

Once she closes her bedroom door she gets ready to sleep and Cass lays across the foot of her bed, as if he's always done this.

"Good night, Cass," she scratches behind his ear before coughing a few more times and laying down. "Merry Christmas."


	29. The Promise of the West (Part 8)

Inhaling deep, Dean wakes up to the sound of barking. It's distant but it's not quite as far away as the barn like normal when Cass barks.

But then he remembers Cass stayed in Ellie's room last night. She's been dying to get Cass to live inside with them and after the Christmas day she gave Sam and him, he couldn't possibly say no.

"Dang it, Ellie," Dean complains as he gets himself out of bed. The barking isn't stopping and there's no way he'll sleep through that. Time to get up.

Dean throws on some clothing, pulls his boots on to keep his feet warm in the winter, and heads out of his room while wiping his eyes with one hand.

"Mornin'," Sam greets through a yawn as he leaves his own bedroom, catching Dean at the top of the stairs.

"Howdy," Dean grumbles and heads down to the first floor, Sam following. "I take it Cass done woke ya up?"

"I take it he did the same to you."

"Yessum," Dean says and heads for Ellie's room. "Guess this Cass-livin'-in-the-house thin' ain't such a good idea after all."

"Not if it ends up like this," Sam comments and looks outside at the lightened morning. Must be at least seven. "Ellie ain't up yet?"

"Guess not," Dean says as he finds the kitchen empty. "How she sleepin' through all that racket Cass be makin'?"

"No idea," Sam comments, a hand running through his too long hair as he heads for the stove. "I'mma start on the coffee."

"Good idea," Dean comments as he stands in front of Ellie's door. He knocks three times quickly and calls in to her. "Ellie, ya awake?"

Cass starts going crazy, the door shaking has he jumps up onto it in a clear panic. That paired with no answer from Ellie makes Dean's heart start to pump harder.

"Ellie!?" he yells into the room, his fist pounding the door a few times.

"Dean?" her voice is barely audible over the ruckus of Cass and Dean's had it. He opens the door despite proper manners.

When he does Cass jumps up on him before pacing back and forth between he and Ellie, his moves nervous and skittish. Dean takes one look at her and he knows something is seriously wrong.

"Ellie!" he says her name again and rushes to her bedside, looking down at her with total alarm. "Ya ill?"

"Think so," Ellie says, her eyes hollow and red, her skin pale and clammy looking, and there's a sheen of sweat over her skin.

"Damn," Dean whispers to himself in a true panic for a second as she starts to have a bout of dry coughing. He just stands there and sees her heavily lidded eyes looking to him. He has to do something. He presses a palm to her forehead and grows scared. "Dang it, El. Ya burnin' up. Sam!"

"Don't bother him," Ellie says quietly as Cass sits by her bed, his chin resting next to her head on her pillow as he looks at her and whines. "Ya'll just leave me be. It's just a little coryza."

"It more than that, darlin'," Dean says and quickly once more yells for, "Sam!"

"What?" his brother asks as he runs to the room. He takes one look at Ellie and gets it. "Oh, Ellie. Ya sick."

"You boys… ya not… ya'll should just go home," Ellie says as her eyes slip closed.

"Go home?" Dean asks, kneeling next to her bed and looking at her with total concern. "Ellie, we home right now."

"No, no. _Your_ home. Down wit the lake an'… fire." Her eyes remain unfocused and wandering.

"She's gone delirious," Sam comments, reaching over Dean to feel her forehead. "We gotta git that fever down _now_."

"The snow?" Dean questions with wide, scared eyes on his little brother as they try and help the woman in their employ.

"Grab her arms," Sam says quick as he pulls the bedding off of her body. Sam grabs ahold of her legs and Dean scoops his arms under her shoulders.

"Ellie, ya hear me?" Dean asks, ignoring the fact that his own voice is shaking with fear.

"Jackson, let me sleep," she says to him, her mind completely scrambled with intense fever.

"I ain't Jackson, sweetheart," Dean kindly returns as he walks with Sam out of her room and towards the back door. "We gonna git that fever down. It ain't gone be none too pleasant but we gotta."

"Ya takin' care of me?" she asks, eyes rolling up unfocused to see him above her. "Gonna get rid of my sickness an' make me better?"

"Yeah, El. Stay wit me, huh?" Dean asks of her, needing her awake so he can see how she is.

"I'm not gonna leave ya," she tells him and smiles oddly. "I never wanted to."

The freezing cold winter air bites their faces the second they open the door. It took Sam three shoves with his shoulder to get the door open as the snow drifts have covered it a bit. A few steps back from the door and Sam looks to his brother. "Put her down slow."

They lower Ellie to the ground, settling her into the white powder, and Sam immediately starts scooping snow up and placing it on her feet and legs that hang below her sleep dress.

Dean copies, pushing snow over her neck and chest before pushing her hands into the powder.

Ellie's eye glance around her lazily, her energy nowhere to be found for a good minute… right up until the cold finally reaches hers.

"Oh!" Ellie cries out when the burn of the freezing snow hits her like a punch to her entire body. She sits up sharply and hollers out in pain. "No! Oh! Dean!?"

"Ellie, stop!" Dean calls out to her and sits behind her, his arms around her scrambling body. "I got ya. Stop it, now," he soothingly says to her right by her ear as he watches Sam press her legs down by the ankles to keep her in place. "Listen ta me. I know it's cold but ya got ta be here a lil' longer."

"It hurts," she all but cries with the pain of the biting sting, her body still struggling against him with what little energy she has. "Dean, please…"

"Yer fine," she says, hugging her in with an arm around her shoulders'. He sits behind her, his legs to either side of her body, and he settles her back against his chest. "Relax now. Easy, darlin'. Ya gonna be fine. Trust us."

She shivers once hard in his arms but stays put, trusting that they're actually helping her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. But I gotta," Sam preemptively says before repacking her legs in the snow.

Dean takes the hint and digs her hands into the snow again, his own skin not even registering the freezing cold due to his fear and adrenaline pumping. Seeing her like this is just awful. He'd so much rather it be him.

"It still hurts," Ellie says in a small, choked voice as her body violently shivers once more. Out of sheer need for comfort Ellie's right hand twines into his under the snow.

"I know, El," Dean says back, his hand gripping hers right back. He brings his free hand to her forehead and tucks her head under his chin as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I know. Ya gotta be tough now. An' I'm right here. Ain't gonna leave ya. We gonna be cold together."

* * *

"She's still real warm," Sam says as he comes out of Ellie room to meet Dean in the kitchen just out of earshot. "And she ain't talkin'."

"But it ain't too bad, right? It better?" Dean need to know. They kept her out there for a good five minutes in the bitter cold, her temperature dropping to something more manageable. She's also more with it now, able to carry a conversation without total confusion but the delirium is still there.

"It's better fer now but somethin' ain't right with her," Sam has his hand son his hips as he tries to think. "This is bad, Dean."

"How bad?"

"I think it might be typhoid fever maybe," Sam drops the bomb of what he thinks is happening to her. "Could be consump…."

"Don't ya say that!" Dean sharply stops Sam with the fear he has for that terrible word and the terrifying sickness. "It ain't that!"

"Could be," Sam painfully comments, needing to be prepared for anything.

"_It ain't_!" Dean refuses with anger.

Sam just nods in return and takes a deep breath. "We're gonna need some help here."

"Dang it, it's happenin' again," Dean whispers to himself as he wipes a hand down his face, seeing history repeat itself right in front of him yet one more time. "What ya think, we needin' the doc?" He knows doctors aren't normally called for anything like this. They're around for injuries and gunshot wounds, not sickness as there isn't normally anything to do for it. But they're scared.

"I don't know…"

"Well, if she gonna git worse I ain't gonna know what to do," Dean reminds his brother.

"Me neither," Sam admits, not having had to deal with this before now. "What do we do?"

Sam just looks at Dean for a second and thinks it through. If they sit on this and just keep watch then she could get better. But if she died and they never went to look for help they'll feel guilt beyond anything they've felt before.

Without saying a word, Sam moves upstairs to his room. He heads immediately to the drawer in the small dresser, pushing aside the few folded shirts in it to get the large leather satchel hidden there. He opens it up and grabs several coins before putting it all back.

"Take this," Sam says to his older brother, pressing the five silver coins into his palm. "Should be more 'an enough to git Doc Robert out here."

"Out here!?" Dean asks with wide eyes as Sam runs around, gathering all their warmest clothing.

"Go an' fetch him," Sam says without hesitance. "Bring 'em here an' have him check her out. He'll know what ta do."

"He ain't gonna come out this way…."

"Ya know how ta treat her?" Sam counters as he stands in front of Dean, looking at him with challenge.

"Well… nah…."

"We ain't gonna let her die in there," Sam says with certainty. "We ain't gonna lose another."

Dean nods absently, understanding what his brother is saying. Dad lost mom. Sam lost Jessica. They aren't losing another good woman to sickness. Not on their watch.

"Them horses always liked ya better anyways," Sam explains.

"I ain't no giant," Dean comments as he pockets the money and starts grabbing the clothing, putting on layer after layer.

"So you go an' git Doc Robert an' I'll stay put. I'll watch her." Sam starts helping get Dean together, grabbing his boots and an extra blanket. "It ain't snowin' right now but it don't look good fer later so you gotta travel fast."

"The roads're snowed over," Dean worries aloud, getting bundled up.

"Then hopefully a wagon's been by an' ya can travel along the tracks. Just get there an' bring the doc back."

"I'll give it a try," Dean answers.

"Don't try, Dean. Ya gotta do this," Sam tells him, running to the stove to wrap up some bread for the trip that could be long with the weather conditions. "I'll git her some water an' try an' git her talking again. Hopefully she ain't delirious no more."

Dean nods and finished putting every layer he can manage on. Right when he's ready to leave he pauses, looking towards the open door of Ellie's room. He can see her face, expressionless and pale. Her hair's matted with sweat and her eyes are only half open. He suddenly has a strong urge to stay, to be by her side and comfort her any way he can, instead of leave.

"She'll be fine. I'm here. Now git!" Sam says, pushing Dean out to the back door.

The second he hits the snow covered ground in his heavy boots Dean's back into the plan. His mind switches into panic mode and he's off and running for the barn, ready to get Spyder hitched up and on the road.

* * *

Over two hours after leaving the farm, Dean finally arrives at Doctor Robert's house on the other side of Sioux Falls town. He rode through the street, people still about even in the winter, and ignored every hello he got. He just wants to get the doctor back to his house as quickly as possible so he can see Ellie. Nothing matters past that.

Coming up to the small cabin he knows as the doctor's, Dean jumps off of Spider and runs for the front door, immediately pounding on the heavy wood with a tight fist the second he reaches it.

"Doc Robert!" he shouts out loud in a panic. "Please tell me yer home! Doc!"

"Dang it," he hears a voice complain as the door pulls open. "What in Sam Hill… Mister Winchester?"

"Doc, ya gotta come wit me!" Dean pleads right away, his voice panicked. "It's Ellie. She needs yer help…."

"That pretty girl ya got workin' on yer farm?" the doctor asks, ironing out what the clearly overly worried man says as he goes.

"She sick," Dean rushes out. "She real sick an' Sam an' me don't know what ta do. I need ya ta come wit me…."

"In this weather!?" he questions. "You done lost yer head, boy?"

"But she need yer help!" the farmer begs out further, repeating the same thing over and over. "Me an' my brother, we ain't smart 'bout sicknesses like you."

"Just give her time," Doctor Robert waves off. "If she's sick then there ain't a whole lot ta do past waitin' it out an' seein' what happens…."

"No!" Dean calls out, pushing a hand to the door to stop it from shutting when the doctor attempts to close it. "We need ya! _She_ needs ya!"

The doctor sighs heavily, his hand scratching at his white hair. "Son, I know ya had some troubles in the past wit sickness in yer house. But not every bout 'a coryza is some deadly situation."

"She's ain't talking," Dean starts to really spell it out, forcing his demeanor to calm in order to give a true picture of what they're dealing with. "She ain't moving in bed, just lying there. She gone delirious an' Sam an' me had ta bury her in snow to git her fever down but it just goin' up again. Doc, we don't know what we're doin'." He reaches into his pocket and grabs the five coins Sam gave him, a hefty amount of money from their savings. "We're willin' to pay ya fer yer help an' fer comin' out ta our farm."

He hands the money over, the doctor's eyes lighting up with surprise at the amount. "Ya that worried 'bout her that ya willin' to spend this kinda coin?"

"Yes," Dean says, the certainty in his voice strong. "We done lost enough. We ain't losing her too. Sam feels the same."

The doctor stands there and thinks hard, looking inside the warm house longingly for a moment. He then sighs. "Ya go git ready to leave. I'll be prepared in a short fix."

The doctor disappears into the house again and Dean relaxes just a bit, relieved to have real help. He just needs to get back to her quickly, knowing that Sam can't be having an easy time alone and the longer they don't know how to treat her the worse her fate could be.

* * *

"Ellie?" Sam calls out her name for the hundredth time as he sits in a chair from the dinner table that he brought next to her bed. She hasn't moved since they brought her back in from the snow and put her back into bed. It was awkward when they needed to swap her wet clothing for a dry set, the improperness of two grown men having to do that just wrong, but they did it without thinking. She needed help and they went into an unthinking place to give her what she needed. They honestly weren't looking anyways.

And now Sam sits and waits. Hours have passed and Dean's not back yet. Ellie's said nothing, hasn't even moved, and she's getting very warm again. And the one farmer still left in the house hasn't stopped worrying for a second. The minutes tick by, his heart pounds harder, and he checks her forehead once more.

"Dang," Sam whispers to himself, his knee bouncing a mile a minute. She's as hot as when they woke up. Her fever won't stay down.

Running his hand through his hair, Sam looks at Cass as he lays across the foot of her bed. He's eyes keep shifting around but always land on Ellie at some point, his voice whining softly with his worry. He knows something is very wrong with her and his loyalty has him very much disturbed.

"Mm," Ellie moans in pain as her eyes close and her head rolls a bit to the side.

"Ellie?" Sam asks, trying to get her attention as this is the most movement she's made in almost four hours.

"No… stay…."

"Damn it all to hell," Sam complains as he stands up, ready to bring her back into the biting South Dakota air and bury her in snow again. She flailed so much last time he hopes he can hold her down himself once out there.

"Stay here…."

"Ellie, we gonna have to git you in the snow again," Sam warns her as he pulls her blankets back. "I know you ain't gonna like it…."

"Cas… tiel...?"

Her eyes open and look up at him as he digs his arms under her to carry her.

"Who?" Sam questions as he lifts her up, her small and unmoving frame far too easy to lift when she's still.

"He'll save me," her voice quietly explains to Sam, eyes rolling back a bit. "Save me. Fix me."

"Who will?" he questions, getting to the back door quickly with Cass on his heels, barking nervously.

She smiles very slightly, the best she can manage. "My… angel…."

"This ain't good at all," Sam worries out when she makes no sense what so ever. He opens and walks through the door into the thankfully still calm weather. "Ellie, this ain't gonna feel too good. You stay still fer me."

Sam kneels to the snow and places her down gently, waiting for the panic to happen again. When it doesn't and her eyes stay heavily lidded and her voice silent, the true fear starts to hit him.

"Sam!?" he can hear Dean's voice call to him from inside the small house and Sam finally lets out a breath he's been holding since his brother went out to find the doctor.

"Dean!" he calls back through the open door he's only feet from. "Come back!"

In seconds, Dean's rushing towards them. "What happened?"

"That fever went right on up again," Sam explains, packing her bare feet into the wet snow. "She was delirious again too. Talkin' 'bout angels savin' her an' whatnot. She's all balled up."

"Dang it," Dean complains, dropping to the snow without a second thought to help out. He starts to bury her arms in snow when her eyes open and lock onto him.

"Dean?" she asks, her face showing recognition with a bit of struggle.

"Howdy, Ellie," Dean smiles despite his fears in order to keep her calm. "Ya alright in this snow?"

"What snow?" she questions and Dean can feel his heart drop. She's so sick.

"It ain' nothin', darlin'," he keeps his fake smile bright for her. "How ya feelin'?"

"I'm mighty tired, Jackson," she says to him, her mind getting confused with how warm her fever has gotten.

"Aw, I ain't Jackson, El," Dean hates to tell her since her voice grew so soft and loving.

"I missed you," she tells him, smiling very slightly.

Dean ignores her words, not sure what to say. Instead he just keeps working to put more snow on her and get her delirium down.

"I love you, dear," she says to him, looking right into his eyes and making Dean feel worse than ever.

"Ellie, I ain't Jackson," he explains once more.

"I know."

"I'm thinkin' ya don't."

"Dean. I know yer Dean."

He pauses and looks down at her bright brown eyes. She knew it was him? No, she's not thinking straight at all.

"Ya just relax, Ellie. Don't go talkin' too much."

She listens and stops speaking, instead leaning her head against his leg as he sits close.

"How long ya been out here?" Dean asks Sam and moves on from the odd moment.

"Just got here when ya arrived. The doc here?"

"Yessum," Dean answers, plunging his hand into the snow to find Ellie's. He grabs it immediately and holds on tight, just like the first time they did this right when they woke up. She grips back but it isn't nearly as hard as before. "Guess we waitin' a tick then," Dean says to Sam as his free hand presses to her forehead, the skin still warm.

* * *

"Try an' keep her dry for the time bein'," Doctor Robert starts out once Ellie's back in bed and wearing the last of her dry night clothing. Her other two sets are hung over the rocking chairs by the roaring fire to dry out or on a line they strung in her room. "If she need to be cooled down again don't put her in nothin' already damp when done."

He opens his medical bag and pulls out his stethoscope.

"What ya think it is?" Dean questions, his own clothing still wet as he stands at the foot of Ellie's bed, nothing but concern written all over him.

"Patience, my boy," the doctor says as he starts to listen to Ellie's chest. After a few moments he tells Dean what he finds. "It sure as rain ain't consumption."

Dean's shoulders drop and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment, the relief massive. Consumption has taken the two women the Winchester men loved the most. It ruined their family, ruined their faith… but it isn't ruining anything else.

When his eyes open again he sees that Doctor Robert is looking down Ellie's nightgown from the neck.

"Whoa! Ya lookin' for a show on the sly?" Dean gets angry awfully quick.

"No, Mister Winchester, I am not," the doctor responds as he observes her skin. "I am a man of medicine doin' what ya paid me ta do."

Dean nods to himself and looks away, wanting to kill himself for the weird moment. The hell was that? Jealousy?

"Well, I'm thinkin' I know what she got here."

"What?" Dean asks, Sam coming into the room after changing into dry clothing himself.

"We lookin' at Typhoid fever," he says with absolute sureness after seeing the spots on her skin. "That's why she not talkin'. This is stage two."

"Two!?" Sam asks. "Ya mean she's been sick before now?"

"Most certainly," Doctor Robert answers back. As he stands tall and puts away his stethoscope. "She been coughing lately?"

"Yesterday," Dean answers, his arms crossed over his chest as he listens.

"Any headaches."

"No…." Really, he's not sure.

"Stomachaches?"

"She ain't said nothin'."

"Well then, she ain't been honest," the doctor points out as he rummages through his bag. "This girl's been feelin' none too good for some days."

"She been lyin' to us?" Sam asks his brother and Dean doesn't answer. It's too much like Jessica. She lied too and waited too long. She isn't around because of that reason.

"She's gonna be out of it for some days," Doctor Robert explains as he places a tincture on a small table by her bed. He then lifts her night gown, making both men look elsewhere around the room nervously. The doctor then presses on certain areas of her abdomen, his brow lowering when she groans out lightly in her half-awake state. "I got a couple things ya boys are gonna need to keep an eye on."

"Shoot," Dean says, glancing back to see Doctor Robert pulling the blankets back over her.

"She got rose spots," he starts to explain. "They let me know fer sure it's Typhoid. An' her stomach is tender. That means adynamia. She been… frequentin' the pot?" He nods his head to the empty chamber pot on the floor.

"Uh… well, no…." Dean stutters out. "Not that we'd know…."

"Trust me, with Typhoid… you'd know," the doctor explains. "That mean she's backed right on up. When she corrects herself I suggest you keep on outta here. Ain't gonna be none too pleasant. She'll want her privacy."

Both men just nod with horrified faces.

"If her stomach start to hurt too much, gets real strong, then her adynamia has gotten worse. Pray that _that_ don't happen."

"Why? What gonna happen if'n it does?" Dean questions with fear.

"Then… God be the only one able to save her," the doctor says. "She look fine right now, like she'll recover, but just be on the lookout if she falls into severe stomach pain. Come an' get me right away."

"We will," Sam promises.

"Fer now, ya need ta give her this," Doctor Robert says, handing Dean the tincture he took out.

"What's this?" he asks, looking at the brown liquid.

"That be Robert's laudanum," the doctor says with a big smile. "I came up wit it myself. It'll keep her comfortable an' bring down her fever possibly. An' help wit her delirium. Mix a droppers worth wit a little water once a day an' git her to drink it when she can."

"Thank ya, doc," Dean says, his face exhausted and long as he tries to smile at the man. "We appreciate ya makin' this trip."

"Explain that ta my wife," the doctor grumbles out as he packs up his bag.

"Uh, Doctor Robert… would ya want to stay the night?" Sam offers to him as he thinks the trek back to the doctor's house through. "The snow just picked on up again. Might be better to wait it out 'til tomorrow."

"Ya can take my bed fer the night," Dean offers as he walks to the chair Sam had been in and sits. "I ain't much in the mood fer sleepin'. Don't think I'll be getting' much tonight as it bein'."

"An' we got plenty 'a leftover food from yesterday," Sam tells him. "Ya gonna eat like a king if ya stay."

Doctor Robert just looks at him funny as he picks up his bag. "Why ya got left over food from yesterday?"

"Christmas," Dean says quietly, looking at Ellie's resting face with sheer concern. Just yesterday they had such a great day… and now?

"What are ya'll, pagans?" the doctor asks with wide eyes.

"No, no," Sam explains. "Ellie's from the East. Christmas is a Christian thing out that way. They make a lot 'a food an' give gifts… it's kinda nice."

"Well, if she a good cook then I'll take ya'll up on that offer," the doctor decides, the early afternoon already arrived. "Been a spell since I had me some real good cookin'."

Sam just laughs at the comment from the long married man, trying to lighten the mood in the house after seeing the crazed and absolutely frightened look on his older brother's face all day. "Come wit me. I'll set ya up nice an' then get to supper."

Ushering the doctor away for a moment, Sam leaves Dean right where he is… looking distraught and helpless in the simple wooden chair next to Ellie.

Keeping his eyes on her, Dean leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his clasped hands. She's completely out of it, her eyes half-mast and focus far away. Her expressionless face is eerie and uncomfortable as she's more likely than not going to have a very animated face on the average day. Her bright look paired with her usually happy disposition, even after losing her husband and her planned out life just eight months before, is something he's grown very accustomed to.

Sighing with his eyes closed, Dean just stays there for the time being. He wants someone watching her at all times and that someone should be him. After months of coldness that he's imposed himself out of self-preservation and need to keep her safe and alive, he owes her.

Clearly staying at arm's length didn't make much of a difference. She's still sick and he could still lose her.

And he had no idea before now how much losing her could actually hurt.

* * *

"Dean?"

Breathing in deeply as he comes to, Dean sits up tall in his wooden chair. His eyes fly open and look around, seeing that Ellie is still asleep and there's a small puddle of what he assumes is drool on her blanket where his head had been resting just a second before. He then turns to see Sam standing in the open doorway.

"Mm?" Dean questions, his brain waking slowly but surely.

"Ya alright?" Sam questions, taking a few steps into the room and looking over Ellie's sleeping form.

"I'm good," Dean tells his brother as he washes a hand roughly down his face to wake up. "She been sleepin' for a while now."

"How would ya know?" Sam huffs a quiet laugh that Dean ignores.

"I woulda known if'n she woke," Dean explains as he leans up a bit to press a hand to Ellie's forehead. "I'm thinkin' that Doc Robert potion be doin' a good job. She ain't cookin' no more."

"That's a good sign," Sam nods, happy to hear this. "An' if she's better then you can catch a wink or two."

"Nah," Dean waves his brother off, eyes tired yet he's too worried for rest. "I'mma just git some food. Should probably eat somethin'. I can stay wit her for the night. Make sure she alright."

"Ya don't have ta."

"I do," Dean says sternly and gets up out of his chair.

"Dean… sittin' here ain't gonna cure her."

"It ain't gonna hurt her neither," Dean pauses, looking square at his brother. "I ain't leavin' her alone. Not now."

And Sam gets it. He was right all along, even despite Dean's cold ways these past months. He did it on purpose. He cares about her a lot more than he's willing to admit.

So, as Sam walks away for the night, ready to retire to his room, he thinks it all over. Once they get Ellie back to good health, and they _will_ do that, he needs to work on Dean and get him to realize what he has in front of him… before she's gone for good in April.


	30. The Promise of the West (Part 9)

**New Year's Day, 1868**

When he looks up after hearing the bedding move a bit, Dean can see Ellie's eyes opening. She blinks a few times, her focus on the ceiling, but Dean's already out of his seat. He puts down his new knife she gave him for Christmas and the piece of wood he's been whittling away at on the chair he's all but lived on for days on end and walks to her side.

"Oh," she surprises out when Cass crawls up the bed to her. He licks her face several times, so happy to see her awake. "Howdy, Cass." She smiles lightly and brings a weak hand to his head, ruffling his fur. "Good mornin'."

"Afternoon," Dean corrects for her and she whips her head to the side.

"Dang," she whisper out and closes her eyes. "Ya scared me there, Dean."

"Not my intentions, I promise ya," he responds, kneeling to the floor to be on her level. "How're ya feelin'?"

"Tired," she tells him. "Awful. Am I sick?"

"Ya mighty sick," he explains to her. "Ya been off yer rocker fer 'bout a week now."

"Oh," she says with embarrassment, her cheeks flushing pink. She realizes then that she's in her sleeping gown, her hair a mess and Dean's in her bedroom. Not very proper indeed. She reaches to pull the blankets up her body but her energy level is very low, it taking some time for the simple task.

"Here, lemme help ya," Dean offers and helps sort out the blankets and tuck her in a little better.

"Thank you," she smiles lightly. Dean just nods at her. "What happened to me?"

"What do ya remember?" Dean asks, sitting on the floor now and staying close by as Cass lies down next to her, his head on her stomach.

She smiles just a little wider. "Christmas."

Dean grins at her for that. It was a good day. "Nothin' else?"

"No, sir."

"Good."

"Why?"

He sighs. "It ain't been none too pretty. Better ya don't know."

And then she gets scared. "What… what do I have?"

"Doc says ya got Typhoid fever," Dean tells her. "Ya been delirious fer days but ya fever broke fer good yesterday. It's good ta talk ta the real Ellie again."

"Real Ellie?" she questions with confusion.

"Ya ain't been makin' a whole lotta sense wit yer fever an' all…."

Ellie closes her eyes with the concern she has. "Am I gonna die?"

"No, no," Dean immediately denies her, his hand dropping on top of hers on the outside of the blanket. "Ya ain't dying, Ellie. No way, no how."

"But the war… back home there were so many soldiers dyin' from Typhoid."

"And ya ain't one of them, I swear it," Dean says to her. "I been watchin' ya like a hawk fer days. Ya getting' better. I can see it."

She looks at him for a second, silenced by his words. "You been watching over me?"

And now it's Dean's turn to flush a little red. "Yeah."

She smiles small. "That's mighty sweet 'a ya."

Dean clears his throat and takes his hand back. "Just bein' a good boss is all."

"That's no boss behavior," she tells him. "That's kind gentleman behavior. Knew you were a good one."

"Alright," Dean says getting up from his seat, avoiding the compliments. "I'mma git yer medicine. You don't go nowhere."

"I ain't got nowhere to go," she promises within a joke as he leaves. She looks to her stomach and sees Cass. She pets his head, already knowing the dog never left her side through this whole ordeal. "My good puppy," she says to him. "I'mma get Dean to give ya something good for being so loyal."

He simply licks her hand.

"I'mma need ya ta sit up," Dean says as he enters the room again, Sam in tow after hearing her voice in the room over.

"Howdy, Ellie," Sam says to her, smiling warmly to put her at ease if he can.

"Sam," she nods as she shifts in bed, trying to sit up. She's so weak with minimal food and no movement for days that she can't very well manage it.

"Here," Dean says, putting the glass on the small table in the room and heading for her. He slowly helps her up, supporting her by her arm. Sam rushes to her other side and props her up with her pillow to make it easier to stay seated.

"Feel good?" Sam asks, looking to see that she's comfortable.

"Yessum, thank you."

"Drink this," Dean says, handing her the glass of water and medicine mixed as he was told to.

"What is it?" she questions when she looks at it.

"Doctor Robert's medicine he gave ya," Dean explains. "Gonna be a heck of a lot easier ta give it to ya wit ya awake."

And it's then that she realizes just how difficult Dean's past few days may have been. He's administered medicine to her while she was too feverish to be coherent. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes it's true. And the clothes hung up on a temporary line in the room says he's also done some other work, most likely all her usual chores.

"Dean? Did you… clean my clothes?"

"Uh… well, not exactly," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "A couple times there… me an' Sam, we had ta git yer fever down right quick. Had to bring ya out inta the snow… yer clothes got wet an'… doc said ta keep ya dry."

Ellie's eyes widen with horror. They had to carry her in her night clothing. They had to change her clothing. How embarrassing.

"Don't feel bad," Sam tries to intervene. "It wasn't nothin' but necessary."

"An' ya were sick," Dean adds in. "Don't ya go feelin' down on that. Ya had it tough. Just focus on gettin' better." He points to the glass in her hand.

"Ya'll didn't have ta do all this for me," Ellie tries to make amends. "You're my employers. I shoulda been taking care of ya'll…."

"Don't do that," Dean cuts her off. "No worryin' allowed. Don't let that drink go on up the spout, now."

Ellie looks between the two tall men, one to each side of her bed, and can see the sleepiness in their expressions. They're tired. They cared for her for days on end. She owes them to do as they ask. She tips up the glass and drinks down the medicine, making a face at the bitter taste.

"Why don't ya get some rest now?" Sam suggests, taking the empty glass. "I'mma get ya some water to drink, something small ta eat, an' ya can lay back down."

He leaves to do as he says he would and Ellie turns to Dean, smiling at the man she thought had been the coldest man she's ever met for the past bit of her stay with them. She now sees how wrong she was.

"I thought ya didn't like me anymore," Ellie speaks up when she can tell he won't ignore her any longer. She doesn't say it with an ounce of bitterness. It's light and her mouth turns up in the corners.

Dean shifts on his feet awkwardly with the question at first before heading for his chair. He pulls it up to her bed and takes a seat, looking right at her. "I ain't never not liked ya, Ellie."

"Coulda fooled me then."

Dean sighs with how heavy everything is. "I know. I'm real sorry 'bout that."

"Then why'd ya act like that?" Ellie pries on, seeing he might actually talk to her right now. "I thought we were friends…."

"We was. We _are_," Dean cuts in and corrects her thoughts. "I just… guess I was getting' scared 'a ya."

Her eyes open wider. "Scared of little ol' me?"

"Ya mighty scary, little ol' Miss Ellie," he jokes a little back at her.

"What about me is so dang scary?"

And the conversation gets difficult from there. "I don't know. Ya… ya nice. An' it's nice ta have ya 'round. But…. ya ain't gonna be here forever. An' that ain't easy fer me to understand."

"You're worried about me leaving in the spring?" she asks as her heart melts a little with his confession.

"Who's gonna cook fer me an' my brother?" he asks, smirk in place.

"Ya managed just fine without me before," she points out. "You can do it again."

"Yeah…" Dean nods and thinks about it. "But I don't wanna."

Ellie smiles very wide at that.

"I hate cookin'. An' Sam is 'bout as good at cookin' as he is at talkin' to women folk."

"He ain't good at all?" she laughs slightly and starts to cough.

"Ellie?" Dean asks with concern, his face dropping completely. "El, ya alright?"

She holds up a hand to get him to wait as she rides out the bout. She heaves, her chest hurting and her abdomen flaring up in pain. After some time she calms down and looks over to him, wiping her eyes. "I'm alright. I'm fine, Dean."

"Ya sure?" he asks, her coughs coming a couple more times as Sam walks in and hands her a glass of water.

She nods and drinks down the water quickly. Ellie takes a few deep breaths and looks at Sam. "Thank you."

"Anything," he promises her.

"Oh…." Ellie trails off and blinks slowly once. "I think that medicine the doctor gave ya'll is mighty strong."

"Ya feelin' it?" Dean asks, standing up.

"Oh yessum," she says, her head swimming and the pain in her stomach dissipating. "Oh, I feel much better." Her voice is dreamy and absent.

"How 'bout ya lay down then," Dean asks her, nodding to Sam to get him to help out. They assist her in lying back and pulling the covers back over her, Cass never getting up while they do.

"Thank ya, boys," she says to them as they tuck her back in. Cass scoots up the bed and rests his head on her pillow, right next to her. "Ya'll are so kind."

"You been kind ta us, Ellie," Sam assures her. "Just repaying yer niceness."

Ellie smiles with closed eyes as she starts to let herself drift off. As she does she can hear the men walk to just outside the door.

"Dean, go on an' git some sleep," Sam says in a hushed voice that she still can hear. She fights the laudanum to stay coherent enough to eaves drop.

"Nah, I'm alright."

"No ya ain't. Ya spent a week in a wood chair by her bed. Git some real sleep. I'll stay down here if she needs anythin'."

"Sam, it's fine…"

"No it ain't. Go sleep."

She can hear Sam push Dean towards the stairs, followed by Dean's voice grumbling something with annoyance, and then he climbs the stairs. She smiles as she drifts off.

That Dean Winchesters is full of surprises.

* * *

**January, 1868**

Several days later, a time in which she spent two days in her room not letting anyone in as her digestive tract sorted itself out and a few moments in which she was incoherent with headaches or delirium, and Ellie is finally getting back to her old self. She's eating better, recouping strength, and the three people in the little house have started settling into an altered routine.

"I think I wanna get some of my sewing done by the fire today," Ellie speaks up when she sees Dean come into her room to check on her and just keep her company. It's been rare that he's not in her room these days, taking on the responsibility of her care almost single handedly.

He looks to her with wide eyes and a slight smile. "That so?"

"That's so," she returns to him, a grin of her own in place. "I reckon my rocker's been awfully cold and lonely these past weeks."

"I reckon yer right," he laughs a little right back, walking to her side of the bed. "Ya need a hand?"

"Yessum," she answers, pushing the blankets of her bedding down her legs to free them. Dean helps her out, grabbing her legs lightly and carefully, as if she's made of fine china, lowers them off the edge of the mattress. Touching and being close like this has become a thing of normality versus the thing of pure awkwardness it had been for some time when she first got sick. This is common now.

"Here," he says, holding out a hand to her that she takes. Her grip is weak but it's better than it was the day before and the day before that. As long as there is improvement Dean's been cheerful around her. Once standing he grabs her thick woolen robe and opens it up for her. "Bundle up. The house is drafty."

"Thank ya, Dean," she smiles warmly and threads her arms through the sleeves and wraps herself up tightly.

Going slow as her muscles have been unused and her food intake is still low with stomach pain, Ellie takes a moment to get on. She starts shuffling a small step at a time, Cass out of bed and walking next to her the entire way.

"Howdy," Sam brightly greets as Ellie makes her way out the door and into the main area of the farmhouse.

"Howdy, Sam," she greets back, watching as he gets out of his rocker by the fire. "No, ya sit back down…."

"Once yer settled," he denies her and reaches for her opposite arm not being held by Dean, supporting her as she makes her way. Without speaking, the men decide on the middle rocking chair for her to occupy. That way she's surrounded if she needs anything.

In her seat, Ellie settles in and Dean grabs a blanket from her bed. He drapes it over her lap and makes sure her feet are covered. "Ya comfortable?"

"Yessum," she smiles at him, feeling a tug in her chest when he looks up at her while kneeling on the floor. His face smiling, his eyes reflecting the glow of the fire… she can see the man she met when she came to this town under unfortunate circumstances. He was freer, happy, so sweet… and she gets a little bit nervous again. She still has to leave soon enough….

"So this is what ya farmers do in the winter?" Ellie asks, getting settled when Dean hands her the sewing box and leaves a pile of items to be darned and fixed on the floor to her side. "Live the easy life by the fire?"

"It ain't all that easy," Sam says, looking up from his book. "There's all this reading to git done. An' eatin' supper."

"Don't forget whiskey drinkin' on occasion," Dean adds in and sits into his rocking chair.

"It's a tough life, Ellie. Don't go makin' light of it," Sam smiles at her with his joking and Ellie smiles right back.

"Fair," she says. "Ya'll work hard during the summer season so I guess you earned the cold days off."

"Glad ya see it our way," Dean says and pulls out his knife that she gave him to keep going on his whittling. She easily smiles at him when she sees it.

"What ya makin'?" Ellie asks him.

"Uh… was thinkin' 'bout making a dog," Dean tells her. "Maybe Cass."

"That would be lovely." She smiles wide at the idea of a little wooden Cass.

"Ya think?"

"Oh yessum," she answers.

"Then that's what I'm doin'," Dean decides right then.

Over the next half hour, Ellie sits with her sewing and Dean and Sam with their own activities. Everything is silent yet very comfortable, there being not an ounce of tension or fear now that she's better. Through her sickness the small group of three have come to really know each other better than ever before. Because of that Ellie decides to speak up and push her boundaries.

"I've been thinking," she starts cautiously, not looking up. "When the winter starts thawing out and I can get back to church… I think ya'll should come with me to mass."

Sam's eyes go wide on her as Dean drops his work into his lap with a huff.

"El, we been down this dang road so many times," Dean starts to say but she cuts in.

"I know. I know, but… I was sick. I was very sick and I know God looked down on me and helped me through."

"How ya know that?" Sam questions her.

"He let me be with ya'll during my sickness," Ellie sums up. "You both treated me so well, like your own… and I know I was here wit the two most caring men I ever did meet because God willed it. I believe that."

"But I don't believe in that stuff, Ellie," Sam tells her calmly.

"How could you not?" she challenges. "Every female in your lives has gotten sick and died… except fer me. I'm gonna be just fine. I'm not dying. Whatever it was that cursed yer family? It's gone."

"I don't know if that God," Dean airs his doubts.

"It is!" she promises. "I know it."

"How?"

Ellie smiles. "God sent his angel to help me."

Dean and Sam exchange looks of sheer disbelief.

"Now don't be making unsure eyes at each other," Ellie tells them, disappointed by their lack of belief in her. "I know what I saw."

"Ellie, ya been delirious for a good amount of yer sickness," Dean tells her gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "Chances are yer brain just been playin' tricks on ya."

"No it wasn't," Ellie gets upset now. "An angel came to me, Dean. Ya can't tell me he didn't."

"An' ya can't ask me ta believe that," Dean returns with, his voice soft and kind so she doesn't think he's putting her down.

"Dean, I know I've been a religious woman and I know you ain't been a religious man for some time," she starts, looking at him with hope. "But I know what I saw. I saw a man with big, beautiful wings. He came to me when I thought I was done for. He told me to let the good men I was with care for me, that ya'll were in my life fer a reason."

"What reason?" Sam asks. She smiles at him.

"To save me," she tells them. "He knew you'd save my life."

They say nothing to that.

"Castiel told me…."

"Castiel?" Dean asks. "He got a _name_?"

"Yessum."

"There ain't no Castiel in the Bible, Ellie," Sam says with certainty. He's a reader and, religious or not, he's read through the Bible before.

"There aren't many angels that have their names in there," Ellie tells him. "Doesn't mean they don't exist."

Dean sighs and washes a hand down his face and Ellie can see how he's not ready to believe her. But she can make him see.

"Castiel told me he's been watching over me," Ellie tell them. "He said he's been with me my whole life and that I was always gonna be safe if he's around."

"Then why is yer husband dead, El?" Dean finally speaks up with fire behind his words. "If he been watchin' you then why's Jackson in a dang hole in the ground?"

Ellie hangs her head at the sound of her late husband's name, still missing him very much.

And Dean regrets his words right away. "Dang it. Ellie, I'm sorry if'n that seemed harsh…."

"I asked the same thing," Ellie tells him. "He told me it was Jackson's time and he was sorry he couldn't help. He said it was hard to watch me deal with that but he knew the men that saved me would make it better. And… he said Jackson wasn't the one I was meant ta be with."

Sam and Dean stay quiet.

"He said I need to find my soul mate 'cause he's out there," Ellie smiles, eyes sliding to Dean and away again before he could catch it.

"Why ya takin' that as truth, El?" Dean questions her. "Why ya believe a dream so much?"

"He knew things," Ellie spills.

"Like?"

"Like… the secret language Louise and I shared as kids that no one else knew. And he told me about how you went on Spyder to Doc Robert's place to get help fer me."

"We told ya 'bout that," Sam excuses. "Ya probably hear us talkin' 'bout it while half-awake…."

"You gave the good doc five coins from the small leather bag in your drawer upstairs," she tells Sam. "Five coins from your savings. I don't know what coins but he made it sound like ya'll spent a pretty penny on saving my life."

The brothers once more look to one another with surprise.

"If he isn't real then how do I know all that?" Ellie asks them. "Ya'll never told me you spent your own money on me…." She looks at Dean. "Or that you risked your life in that storm to get the doc for me."

"I ain't risked my life," Dean tells her. "It was nothin'. I'd do it again."

"I know that," she smiles. "I believe him, Dean. Sam, I really do think he's real. He's out there, watching over me."

"Why you?" Sam challenges, just not quite ready to accept it.

"He said I'm special," she answers. "He said he needs me and my faith to be strong, that he'd be back to see me."

"Well, when he gets here… tell him I wanna talk ta him," Sam requests, opening his book again to keep reading.

"Sam, please…."

"I ain't ready to believe all that just yet," he says, looking at his book and ending his involvement with this conversation. He isn't mad or upset… he just isn't at that point yet. Not when he still misses his Jessica so much.

"What about you?" Ellie looks to Dean with very hopeful eyes. "Do you believe me?"

Dean stares at her a second, unsure. He does believe she saw something. That is clear. And she now knows things that they never told her. He never mentioned how hard it was to get to the doctor, that he used Spyder to get there, and that they used five coins from their personal savings to pay him. But angels? That's a lot to ask him to get on board with.

"I do," Dean says to her. "I think ya saw somethin'."

"An angel."

"Don't make me have ta agree ta that just yet…."

"Come to mass with me when the winter thaws," Ellie asks of him, reaching out her hand. She waits for him to take it with lifted eyebrows. "Just one time. If it's so bad you never have to go back."

She's trying so hard and even from the first day this is all she's ever wanted from him. His weakness for her has only gotten worse with her sickness and he can feel it make his resolve crumble.

With a sigh, Dean reaches out and takes her hand. "Yeah."

"Really!?" she asks, eyes wide and hopes up. "Ya mean it?"

He ignores the way Sam's looking at him with shocked bafflement. "Yeah. I'll go one time wit ya once the winter thaw sets in if'n ya really want me to."

"You just made me so happy," she grins ridiculously wide.

"Can tell," Dean says. "Now enough 'bout angels an' church. Git sewing. It's what we payin' ya fer, ain't it?"

She smiles when she can tell he's just joking but she lets go of his hand to pick up her work. She does have a lot to do and a lot of lost time to make up for. The house is a mess, the food hasn't been great, and she needs to get her strength back to make up for all that.

Her fingers move while there's a smile on her face as she knows she might have finally gotten through to the toughest, hardest headed man she's ever had the good luck to know.

* * *

**Author's Note: For anyone this story is getting a bit old and long to, I'm sorry! It's a very long one. We're about two-thirds through it. That's all. I don't meant his reality... I mean the whole story. If this has been though the next reality might be much more comfortable for you. Love you all, you awesome readers you!**


	31. The Promise of the West (Part 10)

**March, 1868**

Bringing the wagon to a stop in front of Bobby's store for the first time in months, Dean inhales the very early spring air. It's still crisp cold, he and Ellie still had to bundle up for the trip, but everything has thawed enough and the weather has lightened to the point that for the first Sunday in several they've made it to town.

"Howdy," they hear a gruff older male voice call out as Bobby walks out of his shop. "Had a feelin' I'd be seein' you two today."

"Ya got lucky," Dean grins wide, his happiness to be out of the house more than apparent. He jumps down from his side of that cart as Bobby makes his way to Ellie, his hat in his hands.

"Howdy, Ma'am," he nods before replacing his hat and reaching for her hand.

"Howdy, Mister Singer," she answers back and grabs on tight, letting him help her down. "Thank ya, kindly."

"Not at all, dear. I'm happy ta see yer lovely face any day a' the week," he very sweetly answers.

"Aw, Bobby… ya shouldn't be makin' a mash on all the younger gals 'round here," Dean warns him. "Or I'll be sure to let Missus Karen know whacha been up to."

"Watch it, boy," Bobby warns. "An' speakin' of the missus, Karen been askin' me ta invite ya'll ta dinner this spring. It's been a spell since she seen ya two boys and she's been dyin' ta meet ya, Ellie."

"That would be mighty nice, Mister Singer. Thank you for the invite." Ellie looks to Dean. "We can do that, right Dean?"

"I can't figure a good reason why not," Dean says, shakin' Bobby's hand before adding, "I would never upset the man that gives me a deal on seed… 'specially when it's dang near time to be buyin' again."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, taking his hand back and turning to Ellie. "Ya headin' on over ta services?"

"Yessum, we certainly are," Ellie says with the brightest smile she's had since Jackson's passing.

"_We_?" he asks.

"Dean agreed ta come wit me today." She grins at the young man, still very excited.

"Well I'll be downright damned," Bobby smiles, liking the idea as he looks Dean's attire over. "An' ya even got yer best bib an' tucker on."

"Ellie done told me there might be some bang-up gals there so I figured what the hell, huh?" Dean jokes and swats Bobby's shoulder, missing the slightly upset face Ellie quickly shows and then covers before anyone can see. Bobby caught it.

"An' they all just gonna give ya the mitten if they got any brains 'bout them," Bobby returns with, making Ellie snort a little laugh. Dean shoots her a look of fake anger and she just arches an eyebrow at him.

"Well, we're due at the ol' Doxology works so we best git," Dean says, looking to Ellie. "Shall we?" He hooks his arm and offers it to her.

"Well ain't you in apple pie order today," Ellie awes at his gentlemanly ways.

"I try ta let the public think I'mma true thoroughbred."

"They wouldn't be all that far off," she compliments surprisingly before saying goodbye to Bobby. "Good day, Mister Singer."

"Goodbye, Ellie," Bobby nods. "And Dean, ya'll let me know what ya be needin' this year, pony up. First order's goin' out next week."

"Will do," Dean says, tipping the wide brim of his black, cattle baron creased hat.

The two of them stroll down the main street, keeping to the porches of the businesses and inns on the way as the winter thaw has kept the dirt road muddy. Staring at him a bit in the sunlight as he looks around, Dean's face light despite the slight shake in his arm over going to church for the first time since his childhood, she has to admit he cleaned up well for the occasion. He shaved his winter beard off, the one he grew while she was sick and never wanted to leave her side long enough to deal with it. And his clothing is top notch with his double breasted black wool vest, crisp ironed high-collar white shirt under it, his long woolen overcoat, and his freshly polished boots.

Ellie takes a deep breath and gets brave. With a smile she tries to tell him how she feels about his efforts. "I hope ya don't think me too forward for sayin' this, Dean… but you…."

"My word!" a voice hollers out suddenly as they pass Meeker's tavern and brothel. When they look up to the open, second story porch they see Jo leaning over the railing, looking right at Dean with her breasts practically spilling out of her corset. "Mister Winchester! Don't ya be lookin' fine as a pour a' Basil Hayden's! Whoo!"

Three other working girls whoop at him and Dean smiles with a slight rose on his cheeks.

"Mornin', ladies," Dean says with the tip of his wide brim hat and starts to head away.

"Can I expect ya later on, cowboy?" Jo asks him loudly. "Got a spot up here warmed right on up fer ya!" She winks at him as Ellie's eyes stare at the ground, embarrassed by the encounter as well as feeling like she's intruding on a moment between Dean and his 'favorite lady'.

"Aw, Jo, I appreciate that there offer but I think I done thrown up the sponge on my ol' waterin' hole." He smiles warmly at her and hopes she understands.

"Shame to lose such a fine ol' stick," Jo says, laughing at her double meaning.

"Aw, that soft solder ain't gonna work on me anymore, girlie," Dean yells up to her, grinning. "We gotta skedaddle."

"Good," Jo grins at him as the two walk away from her, almost happy to have lost his business. She always liked him too much to keep seeing him in her bar.

"Sorry 'bout that," Dean says to Ellie as they keep going.

"It's more than fine," Ellie assures him, pulling his arm tighter as she's proud of him. "Ain't too sure I'mma be able to prevent my heart from stoppin' though."

"What ya mean?"

"Ya just gave up booze an' women fer church. Coulda knocked me right on over with a light wind."

"Aw, ya shut that bazoo a' yers," Dean jokes right back. "Didn't I tell ya I'm tryin' ta be a better man?"

"Ya did," Ellie nods and looks right into his bright green eyes that the sun's lit up. "Ya just aces-high these days, Dean."

He makes a surprised and prideful face as they walk up to the church. "Thank ya kindly."

"Ya very welcome."

"Elizabeth!" a voice calls out happily when they near the front door of the small church.

"Father Murphy," Ellie grins wide and walks right up to him. He shakes her hand politely. "It's very good to see ya."

"Likewise, my dear," he responds. "The thaw has brought the flock and I was hopin' you'd be a part of it."

"Of course!" she responds.

"An' ya brought someone this time I see," the priest says and gives Dean a hard look. "It's good ta see ya, my son."

"Well, what Miss Ellie wants," Dean brushes away as he shakes the man's hand.

"I hope ta see ya more often too," Father Murphy says. "This house has missed the Winchester family."

Dean just smiles when he doesn't know what to say.

"Well, I think we'll take our seats," Ellie says in parting and the two head inside, Dean's hands shaking a bit as he does.

* * *

**"**Brothers… an' sisters," Father Murphy starts the reading and adds in his addition of addressing the women attending mass unlike the Word of God before him. There is a light laughter rumbling quickly through the group, Ellie being one of them as she sits next to Dean in the last pew of the church. "We do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from Heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be called up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words." He closes the Bible. "Falling asleep, the big sleep, is a very difficult concept fer many."

Ellie takes a deep breath when she realizes why it is the Father mentioned it being good she was here today. Her posture stiffens with discomfort and Dean doesn't miss it.

"We love, we lose… an' not one of us is alone in this," Father Murphy continues. "Every person in this holy building has felt loss. Some greater than others but we have felt it. It is… hard, to put it light. It hurts like the dickens."

Ellie takes a deep breath. All she can think about is her Jackson. His death still affects her every day. His loss hurts and her guilt for becoming such close friends with Dean comes right back. It would be viewed as improper by most people but he makes her happy. And then she feels even guiltier when she thinks of how happy she is around Dean and for letting another man in her life in any form of close capacity less than a year after his passing.

"But we must have faith an' not be so saddened by loss," the Father explains. "Our grief overshadows what is really at work here. If a man dies in Jesus, if he dies with love fer the Lord in his heart, he will be taken unto Heaven to rest in the fields of the Lord. How could we not find comfort in that? How could we feel such upset and sorrow when they have truly passed to a better place?"

When Ellie's head drops Dean looks over to her with worry. He can see her hands covering her face as her back hitches several times. She's crying.

"Ellie?" Dean leans over to her and calls her name in a very quiet whisper. She doesn't respond as the Father keeps speaking. "El? Ya alright?"

She keeps crying and shakes her head no.

He doesn't know what to do. He has a feeling this is about Jackson's death but in the church he can't talk to her and he doesn't want to be rude and leave.

Instead, knowing she'll tell him how improper he is later on, Dean brings an arm around her back and pulls her gently into his side. She doesn't fight the move at all and leans her weight into him, letting him hold her up as her eyes spill over silently. They both sit like that as the sermon continues.

"When the Lord comes back, when He returns to us and saves the righteous believers… we will all be reunited with the ones we've lost. So rejoice. Instead of grieve, be light. Instead of saddened, be joyous. Our time will come and it will be beautiful. It will be so as the Lord has promised us. Praise be to God."

Ellie's eyes don't stop flowing once the sermon is done but Dean just sits with her and cares for her as always despite it feeling too good deep down to be this close to her when she needs it.

* * *

After mass Ellie gathered herself together enough to thank the Father for a wonderful mass and do what she usually did after.

Silently Dean walked with her to the outskirts of town after she asked him to accompany her. He was nervous about doing so, thinking she should want privacy for this or that his presence would be intrusive, but she sounded sincere and very hopeful that he would come. He doesn't know how to turn her down so he went along. What's one more uncomfortable moment today?

Now, as Ellie stands in front of Jackson's grave, Dean stays back a few feet to give her a moment. It's silent for a solid five minutes.

"He didn't believe," she says quietly and suddenly, her head bowed in sadness and worry.

"What's that, El?" Dean asks, stepping closer.

"Jackson, he didn't believe," Ellie says and glances at Dean. "He called himself a 'man of science'."

"What's that mean?"

"He believed in crazy things he read in books," she explains to him. "Ya ever heard of Charles Darwin?"

"No."

"Neither did I… but Jackson found this book a' lies, sayin' we people come from monkeys and bugs. It don't make any sense."

"That sounds bosh," he agrees with her.

"It is. An' he got all balled up about it," Ellie explains, her voice wavering. "He didn't attend church after readin' it. He believed in the sciences. Said he didn't believe in God no more."

"He didn't?" Dean says with surprise, stepping next to her.

"I tried to tell him," she says, getting choked up. "I said if he were ta die not a believer then he won't be allowed in Heaven. An' then I wouldn't ever see him again. I thought we'd have more time, fer me ta convince him to worship the Lord again… but we didn't… and he's gone…."

"So… now ya think ya won't see him again?" Dean questions, starting to get it.

"I ain't never gonna see my Jackson again, Dean," she says, voice choked as her eyes well up again. "He ain't goin' ta Heaven an' I won't see him when I'm done wit this life. He's gone fer good. An' I miss him so." She all out cries over the idea and once more it utterly breaks his heart. "I want him ta be in a better place, is all."

"El, ya really believe that?" Dean asks when he's surprised by her.

"The Bible says so," she says in a sob.

"An' the Bible okay wit slavery too," Dean says in a light voice. "I know ya don't believe in that."

"So?"

"So that don't mean God'll punish ya fer thinkin' slavery is wrong, El. It just means ya got a mind and ya too kind to be okay wit other people bein' treated like that. An' yer still goin' ta Heaven." He sighs when she keeps crying. "Look, I know ya real religious but I got my own beliefs."

This makes her look at him, wiping her eyes.

"If ya a good person… then ya go ta Heaven," Dean says to her. "It seems simple ta me."

"Ya really think that?" Ellie asks, her voice wobbly at best.

"Yeah, I do," he says and pushes their boundaries by walking to her and pulling her into a hug. Her arms come around his middle as she presses her face to his chest, really needing that comfort. "I know ya gonna see Jackson again, El. I just know it."

She nods against him but doesn't attempt to move away.

"This why ya been a dang curly wolf 'bout me an' Sam goin' ta mass?"

She again just nods.

"Aw, El. Sam an' me are good people. We're quiet an' we don't worship or nothin'… but we got our good points. God'd be hard pressed fer reasons not ta let us inta those pearl gates, I think."

Ellie lets out a small laugh at that before looking up at him. "I just want ya to be goin' to a good pace when yer day comes. Ya never know when that'll be neither. I want ta see ya in the afterlife. I want ya ta be saved."

"Aw, Ellie. It ain't God that's saved me," Dean says, getting a confused look from her. He doesn't explain that he was referencing her, thinking better of it, and instead steps away from the embrace that got a little too long. "Ya gonna be alright now?"

"Think so," she says and pulls out a handkerchief. Dean recognizes it immediately as she blots her red face. It's the one he gave her on the day they met in this very spot.

"Can we go home now?" Ellie requests.

"Yessum, we can." Dean smiles softly at her and offers his hooked arm once more. Before she takes it she turns to Jackson's grave. Just like every visit she tells him, "I miss ya, darlin'." She then breathes deeply and adds in something new. "I'll see ya again one day."

With a thankful look at Dean she takes his offered arm and lets Dean lead her away and back to the wagon, ready to calm herself and get ready for making their traditional Sunday meal.

* * *

**April, 1868**

"Ya sure we can't convince ya to work here another harvest?" Sam asks, trying to sound light but coming off heavier than he meant.

"Sam, ya know I gotta get home," Ellie says to him, the letter her mother sent her coming back to mind. Three weeks ago a telegraph from home arrived, in it her mother asking when she'd be back and speaking of the huge excitement for her return. She couldn't let them down, especially after their disappointment in her working for two men out in the west and living with them for a year. Improper indeed. "I have my family to return to. Momma's expectin' me."

"I know," Sam nods. "But you'll be missed, Ellie. I swear it. We're gonna miss ya 'round here."

"Ya'll are just gonna miss suppers bein' made an' yer clothes bein' cleaned," she jokes, wanting this whole thing to be much easier than it is.

"That ain't it an' ya know it," Sam responds without thought.

"I know," Ellie sighs heavily, wishing he wasn't so right. They look at each other a moment and Sam pulls a paper out of his back pocket. It's folded in thirds and she can already see that it's a page from the handmade book she made him for Christmas.

"Can ya do me a favor an' not read that 'til ya leave," Sam says, a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I ain't too grand at this poetry thing just yet but… I tried an'…."

"I'm sure it's really good, Sam," Ellie smiles wide for his bashfulness. "An' I'm gonna miss ya too," she says, meaning it truly. Out in the sunny April day she looks way up at him, his hair longer than ever and his wide brimmed hat shielding his light hazel eyes. She's become friends with Sam, bonding over literature and poetry. They always had the most interesting talks and he's such a deeply affecting and highly intelligent person that she easily found herself caring greatly for him too.

She moves in and hugs him hard. They stay there until Dean calls out to her already in his seat on the wagon.

"Ellie, we gotta git before we miss yer ride to the Old States. Git a wiggle on."

She sighs and backs away, trying hard not to cry.

"Ya best pony up," Sam tells her and she nods sadly. "Goodbye, Miss Ellie." He gives her a slight smile that looks quite pained.

"Goodbye to you, Mister Winchester." She curtseys jokingly and makes him laugh. With his help she gets into the wagon next to Dean.

Suddenly a dog is jumping up into the wagon and landing on the seat next to her, laying down with his head in her lap as he whines slightly, knowing something is going on that he's not about to like.

"Oh, Cassie," she really gets choked up with this one. She ruffles the fur on his head, knowing he's a quite the smart and intuitive creature. "Oh, darlin'. I'm gonna miss you." She kisses his head and he starts to excessively lick her face.

"Alright, out Cass. We gotta git."

"Can he come fer the ride?" Ellie asks with high hopes, her heart breaking with her pet in her lap. "He won't be a bother. I fed him an' everythin'. He'll be company fer yer ride back too."

"Fine," Dean mopes, knowing he won't change her mind, and he can't say no to her right now anyways, and gets them going, snapping the reigns.

As the farm starts to get smaller, the tall figure by the side of it disappearing, Ellie waves as the lump in her throat grows large. She swallows it down and watches through watery eyes, catching Sam's long arm waving right back. She really is going to miss him. And the farm. And the way the sunlight fades to the west and she can see it from the back door in the late summer nights. And how excited the men would get when she made an exceptionally good meal. And how Cass has become her pal.

And how Dean has become her closest friend.

She sits in silence for a good half an hour into town, her eyes occasionally filling with tears that she blinks away. The idea of waking up somewhere else tomorrow is so scary and so disappointing. For the past weeks she kept ignoring the fact that this was happening. It was too hard to come to terms with. When she packed up last night she did so with a closed door to her room so the men of the house wouldn't see her collapsing in sobs several times over.

But she needs to move on. It's time. She has an obligation to her family.

"I wanna thank ya again," Ellie quietly says, finally breaking the silence as she continues to pet Cass' head in her lap. The dog knows she's leaving. He can sense her sadness and he can tell something bad is about to happen. He hasn't moved since they set out, just whined depressively every now and then.

"No need," Dean says curtly, never taking his eyes off the dirt road.

"Dean, ya took me in," she starts. "Ya helped me when I was sick. An' when I was grievin'…."

"Can't we just sit here all quiet like?" Dean asks, annoyed a bit.

Ellie's taken aback by his curt and angry attitude.

"I don't mean ta upset ya," Dean says when he can see her hurt. "I know it all, El. I know ya thankful. I… I just don't wanna speak 'bout things that… got ta be."

Ellie nods without speaking when the lump in her throat returns. Instead she scoots over a little bit and hooks her arm in his, something they've done several times, and settles in there. They don't speak the rest of the way. They just sit like that.

* * *

"This it, I guess," Dean comments as he helps her down from the wagon, her small amount of belongings already unloaded and waiting to be packed by the wagon train heading East.

"Yessum," her chin quivers as she looks at him. She can feel her heart tearing in half and suddenly all those times she denied herself the chance to get closer to him seems like such wasted opportunities.

She tries to say something to him, mouth open and attempting to move, but she can't.

"Don't," Dean says to her, his own eyes watering over as he fights his own sadness. He can't have this discussion with her. It's too hard.

Ellie nods.

"That's Bill over there," Dean points to a tall, skinny man packing one of the wagons. "He's yer man."

"Well, alright," Ellie manages to get out. They take a second to just look at each other, letting it sink in that this will far more likely than not be the last time they lay eyes on one another. This is it.

"Ya… have a good… ride back ta ya family now," he says, every word hurting to say. Is he really this nuts? Is he really going to just let her go?

Her face wrinkles with pain. "I will," she lies.

"An'… ya make sure… ya find happiness. El, ya go find a good life."

With that her eyes spill over. "I done had a good life right here."

"Ya deserve a better one," Dean lets out in a huff, knowing she's too good for this town and this life.

Ellie surprises him when she walks up to him and presses her hand to his cheek. She looks at him long and hard, making him feel something he's been denying. "Dean… ya life is good. I'd be honored to live that life with ya fer longer."

She kisses his cheek sweetly with all she feels for him and backs away, her eyes red and tear filled. Ellie picks up one of her bags and doesn't have it in her to actually say the word goodbye to him. She turns her back to him instead and takes her first few steps away from him and towards her old life that she doesn't want at all.

And Dean panics. He sees her leaving and he all-out panics. In just the time it takes for Ellie to walk five steps away he can feel everything he's kept at bay. He can't do this. He can't live without her. If she leaves there will be no more nights talking on the porch, no Sunday dinners with her and Sam, no warm smile in the morning handing him a cup of coffee and no kind goodnights when she departs to her room for the night. He won't catch the perfect glimpse of her bare neck when her hair is worn up in a bun in the summer and no more looking at her chestnut brown eyes lit up when she laughs. And he won't hear her laugh in his house anymore. He loves that sound.

Curse be damned. What the hell is he thinking!? Speak, Dean! Speak up! She's leaving!

"Ya mean it?" Dean suddenly blurts out and by the time his brain catches up with what his mouth let out she's turned around. Her eyes meet his and he can see the confusion. He can't believe he actually spoke up but true panic can make a man braver than brave when need be. With her sad, watery eyes on him he knows he has to keep speaking or this is it and he'll lose her for good. "Did ya mean it… that ya'd be happy here?"

Her brow wrinkles as she stares at him. "What're ya talkin' 'bout?"

"You could be happy here? Living here?" He's never been so scared in his life as his voice asks these questions of her. He can feel his teeth chattering with fear.

"Of course," she says simply enough, knowing this all along. She loves it out here, even if she never saw it coming when she arrived.

"I… I just…." He can't speak. His voice is frozen in the grip of fright with what he wants to say to her.

And Ellie just waits, not willing to leave until she hears what he has to say.

"Ellie… El, don't go," Dean finally asks of her, words leaving his mouth like a punch when he finds them. His pride never let him actually ask this until now but this is his last chance to grow some balls. "I know ya got family ta git to an', an' ya think ya gotta leave ta move on but… I, I don't want ya ta go."

She inhales sharply when she can't quite figure out what's happening. What is he talking about?

"I know it's mighty selfish to ask that but, please… just don't go," he tries again after getting no response, pulling his hat off his head to wrinkle the brim in his nervous hands.

"Dean… I, I can't just work for ya forever," she tells him. "I have ta move on, make a life."

"Make one here," Dean says simply, still standing ten feet away from her.

"How?" she asks, unclear of what he's saying to her.

"Ya can make one here. A good life… wit, wit me."

"What?" she asks, her face dropping and heart stopping at his words.

"Ellie, I been puttin' a spoke in the wheel fer too long," he admits while taking a couple steps closer to her as the gap between them already felt too far. "Since ya got here… I've been happy. An' I ain't never really been happy before. I shoulda known, I shoulda seen it, but I been a croaker an' a hard case. Ya need a man ya can tie to. I… I think I wanna be that."

Her head swims as she looking into his own surprised eyes. She can't think. This can't be happening.

"Ellie, please stay," Dean repeats as he speaks to the ground out of nerves, now sounding desperate when she doesn't respond. "I won't make ya regret it. I ain't gonna treat ya bad a day a' yer life. I, I know I'm just some granger an' you a girl from wealth an' ya deserve more an' I can ever give ya…."

"Dean?" she stops him in his panicked ramblings.

He pauses and looks at her, really looks at her. She's beautiful. How did he not see it before? She's absolutely beautiful. How could he think he could live without her before now?

"Dean, you sayin' ya wanna…."

"I only know I want ya, Ellie," Dean says to her, cutting off the question. "I don't want ta live without ya. I know I been scared 'cause women don't do well 'round me an' my family but you were right. It ain't gonna be the same this time. Ya different. I know it. An'… I really like ya, El."

"Ya do?" she asks, her entire form paralyzed by shock as her chin quivers.

"I do. I, I like how ya pack me a dinner when I go workin' in the fields an' ya always give me more ta eat than ya give Sam." Ellie laughs slightly at that, knowing she did exactly that. "I like how ya took Cass here an' made him a real dog, showed him love an' patience. I even like how ya burn the potatoes in the skillet every time still 'cause ya ain't never figured it out." Ellie laughs a little harder with this one, her eyes completely blurred. "El, I like the way ya listen ta me. Ain't no one ever done that before. An' ya kind to everyone, 'specially me an' Sam…. An' my word, ya so pretty it hurt ta look 'atcha sometimes."

She honestly blushes as a man speaks to her so complimentary for the first time in a year.

"I know I ain't never gonna speak right an' act wit the manners ya used ta. An' I ain't gonna make the kinda money ya accustomed to… but I know I can give ya a real good life. I know it. I'll always treat ya wit respect an' kindness. I just… I just want ya wit me. The thought that yer leavin'… it's killin' me. Don't leave. _Please_."

With tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips, Ellie takes a step closer to him. "I think I been waitin' a long time fer ya to say that, Dean," she finally speaks up when she can, her brain clearing enough to handle speech. She watches Dean's face go nearly white when she responds positively and she laughs at him. "Ya didn't ever see it?"

"See what?" Dean asks, completely lost.

"Do ya remember when I first made my momma's coffee cake for ya?"

"Yessum."

"And ya said it was the best thin' ya ever ate?"

"I tell ya that every time."

"Dean… I been wantin' to hear ya say ya liked me every time I make that dang cake fer ya," she tells him, a smile on her face as he eyes spill. "Makin' ya that happy… it felt so good. I want ta do that every day. Didn't really know it 'til now but… I think I've been likin' ya for a long time too."

When she laughs a little with her disbelief that they both are feeling the same way, that at the last second they're professing how they feel after a year of ignoring and denying, Dean's chest nearly explodes. He's never once felt this before but whatever it is he never wants to go without it again.

Marching a straight line at her once he knows he's not alone in this, Dean reaches for Ellie. He holds her jaw in his hands and as quickly as possible he does something he's been near dying to do for so long it hurts. He kisses her.

Ellie drops her bag and holds onto him, her own hands on either side of his neck. It feels so good to actually feel him, to know what his lips taste like, that she could die a happy woman in this moment. She's wanted this for far too long and it took her leaving here for good to recognize it all.

When his senses return to him, Dean ends the kiss and leans his face away just an inch, looking at her to make sure he wasn't too hasty. Her bright brown eyes look even more beautiful up close like this.

"I'mma stay," she tells him quietly, nodding slightly while looking at his brilliant green eyes. "I want to."

"Ya sure ya ready fer this?" Dean has to wonder, knowing the love she had for her deceased husband was nothing to dismiss. He wants her to himself as selfish as that sounds. She has to be done grieving before they can move forward together. "Ya sure ya past… everythin' enough?"

"I ain't never gonna stop loving Jackson," Ellie confesses, making sure he gets that. "He was somethin' very special ta me. But you… Dean, yer something completely different than that an' yer a different kinda special. I know… I know I can love ya someday."

Now it's his turn to be surprised by her completely. He knew when he confessed how he was feeling that she'd be shocked and she might not return it. But when she tells him she can love him he's the one in total awe. He never planned to use that word, not yet. But she just did.

"An' I wanna live here an' be happy, even if it means I'm stuck with the likes of a lowly granger like you."

The way she grins as she places a hand to his cheek, every one of her teeth showing as she proves how delighted she is about this sudden turn of events, Dean couldn't possibly be a happier person. This is what he's always denied himself and has always needed more than anything else.

Dean leans down to kiss her again when they get interrupted.

"Pardon me," a voice says and they turn to see Bill walking towards them. "Might you be Miss Ellie?"

"Oh, um," she backs away from Dean amidst the improper display they are about to once more share in public. "Yes, sir. That's me."

"Well, if'n ya ready I'm about ta head on out," he says to her.

"Bill, I'm mighty sorry but there's been a change in plans," Ellie tells him, her grin unstoppable. "I apologize fer holdin' ya up but I can't go wit ya."

He smiles at her after seeing how he caught her just moments ago. "That's just fine, Miss Ellie. Ya look like ya might be more comfortable staying right here… though the company on the way back would've been nice."

Ellie grins remorsefully and picks up her bag from the grassy ground. She pulls out half her wage to get home and walks for him. "I promised ya money an' I still owe ya something." She drops the coins into his hand and curls his fingers around it.

"Oh, I can't take this…."

"Yes ya can. Thank ya for bein' nice enough to offer me the passage home."

"Yer mighty kind, Miss Ellie," he says to her and looks to Dean. "Ya best thank yer lucky stars she changed her mind. She's fine as cream gravy, this gal."

"Don't I know it," Dean easily says, once more pleasantly surprised by her kind actions. It is one of the things has had him tripping over his own two feet since the moment he she moved into their farmhouse. She's just so kindhearted.

"Ya'll have a good day, now," Bill tips his hat and returns to his wagon.

Ellie turns back to Dean, looking at him with renewed eyes. She can appreciate him with no pretense or worry now and what she sees is an overly handsome man, tall with striking features, strength that many man could only hope to possess, and eyes that look at her with something so strong, so heartfelt she suddenly feels like the only woman that exists in the world.

And to think she was going to leave that behind her forever.

"Can we go home now?" Ellie asks of him.

And he grins like an idiot.

"A 'course, Miss Ellie," Dean tells her, offering his hand to her to help her back into the wagon. "Let's go back home."

* * *

Enjoying the mild weather, Sam sits in his rocker on the porch with a book in his lap that he's not reading. He can't focus. He tried but found himself reading the same paragraph over and over again without absorbing a thing.

He's too preoccupied by Ellie's leaving.

Sam's older brother is a dullard to rival them all. He knows exactly how Dean feels about Ellie. He's seen it in him every time he's looked at her since she arrived. Dean tried to deny it and did a plenty good enough job… until she got sick. Since the morning they couldn't wake her up it's been one big show of flirtations around their house. Sam almost got sick of it.

But at the same time he's about to seriously miss it. Dean was happy when she was around. He was obviously in love with her, the word practically scratched into his forehead at this point. But he was scared and rightfully so. They've lost every woman they loved and Dean wouldn't allow himself to be responsible for anything happening to Ellie. Never.

But because of that he denied himself something truly wonderful so therefore Dean is a dullard.

Sam even cornered his brother just last night, asked him what the hell he thought he was doing letting her pack up her things. He let him know that it was obvious to everyone that's seen them together that they make each other happy. Dean could be happy, he could have a family, he could do that with Ellie… but Dean shut him right down. He told him he wouldn't rip her away from her family (even if she'd been the one to leave them in the first place) and he wouldn't risk her life over his personal curse just for a little happiness.

He tried. Boy, did Sam try. But getting through Dean's thick skull would take an ax and a whole lot of spit in his palms to even make a dent. Frustrating as he may be, Sam loves his brother and just wants him happy. Now that Ellie's gone he knows Dean will never be honestly happy. He let his chance slip right away.

So now, as he can just make out the wagon coming up their dirt way towards the house, Sam sighs and prepares himself for the storm of the century that's about to hit in the form of Dean's sour and acidic attitude. He won't be good for at least a year….

"What… in Sam Hill…." Sam stands up as the image gets clearer when the wagon approaches. There's two people in the wagon. His heart drops. "Tell me that chiseler found a replacement already."

But when they get even closer he recognizes the woman in the seat next to Dean, her head on his shoulder as they both look like they're smiling. It's no new girl from town to take Ellie's place. It's Ellie that's coming back.

Sam smiles wide and drops his book on his rocker. He immediately starts walking out front to meet them as his heart pounds with excitement. Maybe his brother isn't quite the dullard he thought he was.

"That bunco artist didn't tell ya we were gonna pay ya more if ya stayed, did he?" Sam jokes right off as they come to stop next to the house. "'Cause that just ain't gonna happen."

"Oh no, he just bulldozed me inta staying," Ellie jests right back as Sam helps her down.

"Ya gonna give us another year?"

"Well, um… not exactly…" Ellie starts to answer but Dean takes over as he jumps down, Cass already running around the house after the long sedentary trip.

"This girl ain't never goin' anywhere if I have any say in it," Dean lets Sam know, walking right up next to Ellie and standing very close next to her.

"What's that mean?" Sam asks with high hopes.

Ellie just smiles bashfully and looks down at her feet, Dean's eye on her as he smiles wider than he has since his mother passed on.

"Ya'll…?" Sam starts to ask, pointing back and forth between them. "Really!? I was right!?"

"Yeah, Sam," Dean rolls his eyes. "You were right. Don't get all up in arms…."

"Ugh! Ya'll were putting me through the mill, I swear it!" Sam declares and he rushes to Ellie, hugging her tightly despite usually being a hands off type of person. "Welcome home, Ellie," he says a little more quietly as he holds her there, so happy they came to their senses.

"Thank ya, Sam," she smiles to him, her face starting to hurt with all the grinning she's doing. "Glad ya okay with me still bein' around."

"Please," he says, backing away and shaking his head. "I wasn't ready to deal with this hard case once ya were gone."

"Respect yer elders, son," Dean warns fairly enough. "Help me git her things back to her room, huh?"

Sam smirks at her. "I'd love to." He then secretly pockets the poem he wrote Ellie that he just picked from her pocket. She doesn't need to hear what he has to say about missing her anymore. She's not going anywhere.

* * *

The day ended up like any other with the exception of the suddenly acceptable, small affectionate gestures between Dean and Ellie. He never strayed far from the room she was in, he sat at the table and talked to her while she cooked, and now, sitting by the fire as the nights are still cold in the early days of April, they're holding hands while in their own rocking chairs and just being.

"How does this work, Dean?" Ellie asks him out of nowhere, looking to him for his opinion.

"How does what work?" he wonders.

"_This_," she tightens her grip on his hand. "We ain't like most people that start courtin'."

"Why not?"

"We already done lived together fer a year," she laughs a little. "This ain't like what I know."

"Well I ain't never done this before so I don't know much either," he admits. "How'd it work fer you an' Jackson?"

She smiles with the memories. "He came by my house one day an' asked for my daddy. He spoke to him, told him his intentions wit me… an' we courted for three months."

"What did ya do?" Dean wonders, having no idea how this is supposed to go. He never saw much of Sam with Jess and he's never pursued a woman himself until now.

"We spent time talkin', learnin' 'bout each other, what we want in life."

"That's it?"

"Well, we went on picnics to get away from my parents eyes an' ears now an' then. Went ta a couple town social events together an' after a little bit he told me he knew. He told me wanted ta marry me an' that he loved me."

"An' then ya just got married?" Dean asks.

"It took months a' plannin'. 'Course that wedding was mighty grand an' nothin' at all what I had wanted."

"What did ya want?" Dean wonders.

"I wanted something less uppity," she laughs. "It went from me an' Jackson professin' our love fer each other… ta the social even of the season run by my parents."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I am the oldest after all. But we had a wonderful day despite it. We were in love an' that's really all that matters. Most girls don't get to feel like that on their weddin' day. I was lucky."

Dean watches her face as she recalls the day, her lips smiling and eyes far off. He wants to be the reason for that look on her face. He wants to give her a lovely memory that's all their own.

"Well, we done plenty a' talkin'," Dean points out. "I think ya know me better an' anybody… maybe even me."

"An' ya know me too," Ellie grins at him.

"An' we done plenty of time alone, away from Sam."

"Yes, we have."

"So all I need ta know is what ya want outta life," Dean asks her.

She pulls his hand into her lap and sandwiches it between her own. Her eyes meet his and she grins softly. "I want a family," she says simply. "I want children. Three."

"Three!?" Dean asks. "Ya been thinking 'bout this much?"

"Yes," she looks up at him with eyes that show just how hopeful she is for that in her future. "I love children an' I know I've been put here on this fine Earth to be a mother. I just know it."

Dean smiles wide at the idea as he can already see that. With how caring and loving she is, Ellie with three children running around is nothing hard to imagine. It's actually quite the perfect sight. "I know ya gonna be just grand at that one day."

"Ya think so?"

"Miss Ellie, I done know so," Dean says with full confidence in her.

"Thank ya," she says, very excited to hear him say that. "Well, what do you want, Dean?" she turns it around. "Do ya want a family too?"

"Yeah, I do," he answers her. "I can put them ta work in the fields an' git some rest in the summers."

"No! They're gonna go ta school!" she warns fairly.

"Like I didn't?"

Her face drops at that as she hates that his family kept him from the education he deserved. "Don't ya want better for yer own children than you had?"

"Absolutely, yeah. Yeah, they all gonna go ta school. They gonna be smart like Sammy. An' their momma," Dean nods, loving the sound of that. "All three a' them." He shares a look at her to make sure she gets it. He's on board. Her brilliant smile returns and lets him know she hears him clearly. "And I'mma make this farm double in size one day, once me an' Sam saved up enough. Gonna git a couple farm hands, maybe start raisin' some pigs an' selling them ta the butcher in town for a pretty penny. I'm gonna make some real coin."

"That's a good plan," she encourages him, knowing that having goals is always a very good thing.

"An' then I'mma build ya a big ol' house," Dean tells her. "On the far side a' the property, away from the path. It'll be big an' nice… an' everythin' ya deserve."

"I don't need all that, Dean," Ellie swears. "I can be happy right here."

"This ain't big enough for the number kids ya want."

"That might be true," she laughs a little, the modest farm house nothing more than three tiny bedrooms and one open room on the main floor that just fits three adults.

"An' ya used ta big, plantation homes," Dean says, his insecurities obvious. "I can't git ya one of them but… I can git ya better 'an this." He looks around the place, knowing it's nothing she should have in life.

"Darlin', ya don't need ta do that fer me," Ellie tries again and squeezes his hand, making him look at her. "I came out this way knowin' I ain't never gonna have what my family has. I don't want all that. The stuffy dresses, the big house ya can't find nobody in… servants an' high society lies. Dean, I like our life here. It's quiet an' lovely. An' it ain't about me pretending to be somethin' I ain't."

"Ya ain't that high-falutin' lady I met a year ago?" Dean challenges, knowing that when she arrived she was still quite the rich girl.

She blushes and smiles, looking down at her lap. "I was still riddin' myself of all that fancy."

"I liked ya like that," Dean says to her.

"Yeah?" she laughs at him.

"Yessum. Ya made all the towns folk look 'atcha in awe. Ya impressed them… an' ya were walking wit me. Made me look quite respectable."

She laughs at him again. "Oh, I was just raisin' yer status, was I?"

"Ya got no idea," Dean nods with an equally amused grin.

"I don't know," Ellie shrugs, eyes peeking at him flirtatiously. "Ya seem like a stand up gentleman to me. Don't go sellin' yerself a mudsill."

Dean furrows his brow and looks to her. "Before ya got here… Miss Ellie, I wasn't nothin' but a mudsill."

"Lies." She shakes her head and hates what he says of himself.

"I was just wastin' my days roostered, blowin' my hard earnin's on cheap Who-hit-John and cheaper pu… uh," he catches himself speaking a certain way. "Entertainment."

"Whores," Ellie says aloud, letting him know it's ok.

"I ain't proud of it nowadays."

"An' ya ain't that person no more, Dean."

"Yeah… 'cause yer here now." He pulls her hand up and kisses the back of it. "Ya saved me from a life a' rot-gut an'… real loneliness. I didn't think I'd ever have me a woman an' want me a real life like everyone else."

Her brilliant, toothy smile looks back at him. "An' you saved me from a life of high society bullcrap."

Dean's eyes go wide. "The mouth on ya!"

"Guess I been livin' wit two men fer too long," she says lightly.

"Yeah, speakin' a' which… it ain't proper fer ya to be livin' under the same roof as me anymore, is it?" Dean asks her.

"Most certainly not," Ellie answers, knowing it to be true.

"Then… what we gonna do?"

She thinks for a second. "Who said we had ta be proper?"

"Ya feelin' ok?" Dean checks with her.

"Dean… do ya wanna marry me someday?"

"Yessum."

"Then… why change things fer just a little while?"

Dean nods with that way of thinking. It doesn't make sense. Why bother finding her somewhere to live off their property for just a bit before they get married? Speaking of which….

"When ya gonna send word ta ya family that ya ain't on yer way back?"

"I can do that Sunday," she figures. "When we in town anyways."

"What ya gonna explain ta them?"

"Oh, well… I'm not really sure," Ellie says. "How do I tell my strict an' traditional parents that I'mma live with the man I love an' is courtin' me instead a' come home?" She laughs to herself a little.

"An' he a granger at that," Dean reminds her of his lowly position.

"I once married a very lovely an' wonderful carpenter… so ya hobble that lip a' yers. What ya do ain't what ya are inside."

He smiles briefly for her support. "Would it help… if ya had plans ta marry?"

Ellie gives him one very wide-eyed look.

"I'm just meanin'… wouldn't ya parents be happier if'n ya were already set to get married?" Dean questions.

"But we ain't set ta be married," Ellie counters, heart starting to pound.

"But El… ya just said ya loved me," Dean points out as she never realized she admitted to such a thing. "An' I know we got a lot ta figure out… but ya love me. An' I… Ellie, I love ya too. I mean that. I think that alone make us more ready to marry 'an most…. An' I want ya ta be mine."

When he stands up briefly to move in front of her, kneeling at her feet Ellie can feel her stomach flutter.

"I know it's fast… but I almost lost ya today. That scared me more an' anything else ever has. I 'ain't willing ta ever lose ya an' I don't need more time ta figure out if I love ya an' want ya ta be my wife. I already know everythin' I need ta know."

"Ya done lost yer mind," she states with certainty and a shaky voice.

"No, I haven't."

"Then ya just shootin' ya mouth off."

"No. I'm not," Dean swears to her and sets his face. "Marry me."

Her jaw hangs a bit as her mind catches up.

"I'll ask yer father an' do it proper somehow, I'll figure it out… but I wanna know from you. Please, Ellie… say ya wanna marry me," he tries again, looking for her to answer him.

Her head nods slightly. "'Course I will." She grins wide.


	32. The Promise of the West (Part 11)

**Late July, 1868**

"Ya shake that table any harder an' I'm gonna need ta get a new one."

Ellie looks up from her cup of coffee to find Ellen standing next to her chair. She smiles up at the kind woman as she sits down across from her.

"Sorry, ma'am," Ellie says and once more looks out the open window of the small restaurant on the bottom floor of Ellen's inn. It's after dinner and far before supper so all they have is coffee… and that's all Ellie needed anyways.

"Why ya so nervous fer them ta arrive?" Ellen asks, looking right at her.

"We ain't… on the best a' terms," Ellie admits cautiously.

"Who is?" Ellen asks and laughs at her joke. Ellie laughs too. "My daughter an' I ain't been on the best a' terms fer a long while now. Don't mean I don't love her like the dickens."

"You have a daughter?" Ellie asks with surprise. Over a year of acquaintance and she had no idea.

"Joanna, or I call her Jo. She, uh, works over at Meeker's," Ellen says without much pride.

"Oh… well…." Ellie leaves it at that, knowing the relationship her soon to be husband had with Joanna. Awkward is putting it lightly.

"I don't like her job," Ellen says certainly. "An' we ain't seen eye ta eye on the issue since she started."

"Why does she do… that?" Ellie has to ask, not understanding the choice.

"Most gals over there ain't had two bits to their name when they arrived here in Sioux Falls. They were down on their luck and ol' Mister Meeker could see a sad sack a mile away. He'd git em' off the street and inta a bed earning money the hard way 'fore they could blink."

"I see," Ellie says, still confused.

"But my daughter… she didn't have no sad story of livin' hard," Ellen keeps going. "Her daddy died when she was just little an' I took over the inn. We made good money an' lived well enough on our own. I raised her to be strong an' independent an' make her own choices in life."

"I pray I can do the same if Dean an' I ever have a little girl of our own."

Ellen smiles wide at her. "I like the idea a' that, darlin'," she tells her and pats her hand on the table. "But sometimes children make odd decisions an' ya can't do nothin' 'bout it. Jo, she wanted that job. She say she's good at it an' she likes it."

"Did she made the decision to… be a workin' girl on her own?" Ellie asks with shock.

"Yessum, she did," Ellen answers.

"Well… if that ain't a strong an' independent decision ta make on yer own… then I don't know what is," Ellie tells her, seeing it differently.

"That's one way ta look at it."

"I think it's the only way," Ellie smiles and sips her coffee.

"Yer a good girl, Ellie," Ellen laughs a little. She watches as Ellie once more looks out the window and down the street to the end of the road where all wagons arrive. "What ya so worried 'bout?"

"Where do I even start, Miss Ellen?" Ellie says with a smile that tries to hide her fears, but it doesn't.

"Anywhere ya want, darlin'," Ellen suggests. "I ain't gotta start the supper up for a bit so I got the time."

Ellie sighs heavily. "I like it out here."

"An' we're all glad ya do," Ellen assures.

"But this ain't at all like what I come from," Ellie explains herself. "My home back in Virginia is… big. There ain't a single buildin' in this here town as big as the house I grew up in. We had land, servants… we had slaves. My family is… respected. Highly. The Noonan's of Suffolk were mighty powerful in our parts."

"Ya Irish?" Ellen asks with wide eyes.

"Shh," Ellie smirks, joking with her as the new Irish arrivals from overseas aren't always looked highly upon. But they were old Irish. They'd been in the states for generations. They had full blown southern American accents and no real knowledge of the land her ancestors came from. "Oh, we had money an' status… everythin' everyone wants. But me."

"Why ya not wantin' all that?"

"It's stuffy. It's… fake. It ain't real," Ellie explains. "I never felt right back home, livin' like that. When Jackson an' I left I was so excited. I felt free for the first time ever. I don't want money an' high society an' feelin' like I gotta be proper an' perfect all the time. I wanted freedom an' real happiness. Not fake happiness."

"That's mighty deep a' ya, Ellie," Ellen says to her, shocked by all the thought Ellie's put into all this.

"Had ta make sure that when I married a carpenter against my father's wishes an' cut myself out a' my inheritance that it was worth it first," Ellie laughs.

"They cut ya out!?" Ellen shocks out.

"Yes. They had this handsome lawyer, Mister Benjamin Smith, all lined up fer me. They were gonna marry me off ta him, make their social status rise a bit… but I didn't even like him. Uh, unbearable man. Handsome as a king but his ways about him?" She shakes her head no and makes Ellen laugh. "I met Jackson when my daddy hired him to fix some of the slave quarters out back. I loved him the second I saw him. He was so handsome. An' so strong. An' when I went out there ta offer him some lemonade on the third day he been workin' there we talked… an' I was smitten."

Ellen grins, becoming even fonder of this girl as she speak of her past. She's realizing that Ellie is much more interesting than she ever thought.

"We courted, he was a gentleman, he asked for my hand… an' he got a no. I told my daddy that if he don't let us get hitched then we gonna do it anyways without him. My mother lost it, didn't wanna be left out of her daughter's weddin'. So they had the big ceremony but Jackson didn't get a dowry for me. But he took me anyways." She grins into her cup before taking a sip.

"He was a good man."

"Yessum. He really was."

"Yer strong fer standin' up like that."

"It wasn't easy," Ellie tells her. "An' I feel like it's happenin' all over again."

"Ya think they ain't gonna like Dean none?" Ellen asks, an edge to her voice.

"I know they ain't," Ellie says sadly. "Dean's a standup man… but they're only gonna see a dirty, foulmouth granger that live wit his brother. They ain't gonna look at how good he is ta me, how hard he works, how honest an' kind he is… they ain't gonna see the real Dean. An' it hurts. An' that's why it's makin' me nervous fer them ta git here."

"Well, they don't like my boy when they get here then they're gonna have a hard time wit me," Ellen says, eyebrow cocked as she looks at Ellie. When Mary died Ellen immediately found a soft spot for those two Winchester boys. She saw John at Meeker's, drunk as a skunk on the street often enough to know they weren't getting the home they deserved. She loves those kids and now, knowing Ellie as well as she's come to, she loves Ellie and all she's done for them, especially Dean. She'd stand up for him any day of the week. He's everything Ellie thinks he is.

Ellie laughs at her. "Good ta know I ain't the only one that sees it."

"Well, it's easier ta see these days than before ya arrived… but I see it," Ellen assures her. She pats Ellie's hand a couple times more and stands up. "Ya relax an' stick here as long as ya gotta. If'n they don't git in tonight I got a room fer ya free of charge so ya can wait fer them tomorrow."

"Yer so kind, Miss Ellen," Ellie once more points out to her.

"I really am," she smirks and heads off to get some chores done.

And Ellie sits with her cooled coffee, sipping it and looking out the window. She gets looks from men now and then, something she's grown used to in this town. There aren't too many women living out this way and the ones that are aren't exactly the most attractive. She knows the exception that she is and she deals with it accordingly. She smiles back shyly and looks away quickly, showing kindness yet no interest. Dean isn't in town with her to help chase off the ill-intentioned ones so she plays it safe.

A half hour later she hears the commotion at the end of the street. Leaning out of the open window she takes a peek and sees a group of wagons arriving. Time to check on who is in that group.

Dropping a coin on the table for the coffee despite Ellen claiming it's free for her, she rushes down the street in her finer clothing. Over the year and then some she's amassed an adequate amount of clothing. She decided it's best to look proper when her parents arrive to show that Dean is caring for her and to start the first impression of her western life right.

As she rushes down the dirty street she searches over the passengers. When her eyes fall upon one particular female, one with long blonde hair piled in a high bun on top of her head, her heart skips a beat or several.

"Louise!" she nearly screams out when she sees her beloved little sister. When Louise looks at her she smiles so wide her face shouldn't be able to handle it.

"Bess!" Louise returns with when she locks eyes with her. They run to each other, slamming into a tight hug and grateful sobs.

"Oh, I missed you!" Ellie says with huge happiness, the ability to see her very sister making all the terror of this visit well worth it.

"It hasn't been the same without you, sissy," Louise says quietly into her ear as they embrace. Neither pull away because they just can't.

"Ya look so old!" Ellie admires when they finally part and look each other in the eyes. She holds Louise's head in her hands and really gives her a solid look. "An' ya so pretty!"

"How could you let that slip your mind?" Louise jokes and they hug one more time. As they do Ellie can see her little brother Daniel walking up to her.

"Danny-Boy," she coos out, tears in her eyes now, and rushes to hug him also.

"Hello, Bess," he says to her and hugs back.

"Ya so tall!" she comments with a laugh. When she left he was shorter than her. Now he's almost reached Dean's height.

"I grew up, Bess," he tells her. "You knew you would miss it."

Her heart breaks at that. When she left Daniel was so sad, knowing he wouldn't see her again. It wasn't easy. "But I ain't missin' ya now." She looks up at him with a proud smile, pulling him down by the shoulder to kiss his cheek. "Ya quite the fetchin' man these days."

He looks at her funny. "Why are you speaking like that?"

"Like what?" Ellie asks, her face dropped.

"Daddy isn't going to like you speaking like that. You sound… unintelligent."

She swallows hard, not having realized how much her speech has changed over time until right then. It became second nature to speak like the people around her. But now that her Eastern-living family is around….

"Bess, dear."

She hears the voice and it makes her heart melt and freeze at the same exact time. She sidesteps her brother to see her father standing there, his expensive eastern styled clothing on and his face stern. She walks up to him with her hands clasped.

"Hello, daddy," she says to him nervously, not sure how he's going to respond to her.

He just looks at her.

"I, um… I hope yer travel was easy."

"It wasn't comfortable," he admits. "But it got me to you so… well worth the weeks on a wagon."

She grins. "It's good ta… to see you too, daddy."

He smiles slightly and opens his arms to her. She walks into him and hugs him hard. No, they don't see eye to eye about life and no, they didn't always get along… but they love each other. He was a very good father growing up and she was always an exemplary child for what he knew. They had a bond that was only broken by her choice for marriage and her travel to the west.

"I missed you, Bessie," he says to just her and it makes her eyes water.

"Oh, I missed ya too, daddy." She backs up and wipes her eyes, looking to her father's side. "Momma!" She runs to her and hugs her hard, full out crying now.

"My Bess," her mother says all choked up. "Oh, my little girl."

"I love ya, momma," Ellie tells her, the bond she had with Catherine something very strong and very close, much like with her sister.

"I love you too, Bess dear," Catherine says back, holding her oldest child in her arms for the first time in so long. "I'm so happy to see you are doing well."

"I am, momma," she says, backing away to speak to her face to face. "I swear. I'm doin' real well."

"I would like to meet this man you would like to marry, Bess," her father cuts in as his eyes scan the crowds on the streets. "Where is he?"

"He's at… He's back on the farm," Ellie explains, once more correcting herself. "He an' Sam needed ta work the field today ta make sure their crops yield high this year."

"He didn't come to town with you?" her father, Bernard, asks with surprise.

"No, daddy. I'm perfectly capable a' comin' ta town on my lonesome," she assures him, showing her independent streak is still alive and well. "But I have the wagon ready. I can go an' get it. We can pack up an' be back in time fer me ta make a big ol' Sunday supper for everyone."

Bernard looks at her funny. "Why do you speak like that?"

"Like what, daddy?" she asks innocently.

"Like you're… dull," he says. "I did not raise my children to speak like they are some lowly street-ruffians."

"Oh, daddy," she brushes his concern off. "Everybody 'round here speaks like this. It ain't… it isn't anything to get upset about." She quickly grabs her sister's arm. "Louise, ya come with me an' get the wagon."

Ellie hastily ushers her down the street towards Bobby's general store where her horses and wagon are. She doesn't let the conversation continue any longer.

"I knew he was going to say that," Louise shake her head as they walk.

"Me too," Ellie sighs. "Looks like Daddy ain't changed a lick."

"No, but you have," Louise says and smiles, linking arms with her best friend. "Bessie, ya look so different."

"Do I?" Ellie smiles.

"Yes, ma'am," she chats as they walk. "Ya look… good."

Grinning like an idiot, Ellie leans into her sister a little. "I am good. Louise, I'm so good it's wrong."

"Is it Dean?" she asks.

Ellie just nods rapidly. "He's amazin'. Louise, ya gonna love him, I swear it. He's so nice an' he's funny… an' he's quite the Belvedere."

"Really!?" Louise's eyes light up as she looks at Ellie, excited.

"Yessum. He's a handsome man. Both them Winchester boys are."

Louise's face gets serious for a moment. "Both?"

"Sam, Dean's brother. You'll see," Ellie laughs and ushers her sister to her wagon.

* * *

"Ugh, my back's screamin' like the dickens," Dean complains as he and Sam make their way back from the fields as the dusk settles in. He presses a hand to his lower back and arches into it with a groan.

"Ya getting' old," Sam calls out and shrugs, getting swat by Dean for the comment.

"An' yer mouthy," Dean bitches back as Sam laughs at him. They can see the back door of the house as they approach. "Think they're here yet?"

"Don't know," Sam says. "They already were a day late."

"Yeah… don't think I'm quite ready fer that anywho," Dean comments.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Sam says to calm him, knowing how nervous his brother is. "They're just people, Dean. An' Ellie loves ya. It'll all work out."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure they gonna be real excited ta spend time with the two grangers that be keepin' their daughter from them."

"That's not what we're doin'."

"Yeah…."

When they reach the house Sam grabs the pail by the door and heads for the barn to fill it. Dean heads into the house and is greeted by Ellie in front of the stove cooking.

"Ah, there's my girl!" Dean says with excitement to see her. He immediately walks for her and leans down, kissing her quickly on the lips in greeting.

"Dean, my…." she starts to explain to him what's happening but he keeps going without thinking, kissing her again.

"Somethin's smellin' dang good!" he says while looking over her shoulder, his hands on her hips. "Whacha cookin', pretty lil' lady? 'Cause I am just down right peckish…."

The sound of a man clearing his throat is heard and Dean looks over to the rocking chairs in front of the fireplace. There he sees a man and woman sitting and staring at him with a younger woman and younger man standing by their sides.

"Oh… right, uh…." he gets stuttery right away as he backs up from Ellie a step, no longer touching him. "We got company."

"Darlin', this is my family," Ellie says with a smile, grabbing his hand and leading him over to them. As her father stands she says, "This is Mister Bernard Noonan, my daddy."

"Mister Winchester," he says with a very straight, unforgiving face, his hand held out to him as he looks unimpressed.

"Uh," Dean starts, letting go of Ellie to pull his hat off and wrinkle the brim in his hands nervously for a quick second. He then shakes Bernard's hand. "It's very good ta meet ya, Mister Noonan."

When they let go Bernard looks down at his hand to see the dirt on it.

"Oh, I'm mighty sorry 'bout that, sir," Dean gets even more nervous as he wipes his hand on his pants too late. "My brother, he's fetchin' some water now. I ain't had a tick to clean up after workin' all day."

"I see," Bernard says with disappointment and Ellie shoots him an angry look.

"Dean, this is my momma, Catherine. An' my little brother Daniel. An' my very best sister, Louise."

"I… I'd shake hands an' try an' be formal fer ya… but…" He waves his dirt covered hands in apology. His eyes fall on Louise. "My word."

Louise's eyes blow wide.

"I'm sorry, Louise," Dean laughs a little as he takes in her form. She may be shorter with lighter eyes, but she has long, wavy blonde hair, beautiful lips, and a gorgeous smile that feels familiar. Jessica. "Ya remind me a' someone from a time ago is all. Ya took me off my saddle a moment there."

"I hope she is pretty then," Louise smiles and jokes easily, walking over to him and hugging him hello. She knew her parents would make this difficult on her sister but Louise is going to do her best to make it better. "It is an honor to meet you, Mister Winchester."

"An honor!?" Dean laughs a little as Louise ends the hug. "Well, now I done heard it all. An honor coming from a gal as fine as you? That done made me feel like a real Carnegie."

She laughs at his comment, looking up at the shockingly handsome man with pleasant surprise. She gets it immediately. Ellie's picked a good one this time.

"I hope ya'll travels were good enough," Dean says to them all, back to wrinkling the brim of his hat in his hands as the nerves keep right on going.

"It was just fine, dear," Catherine says, seeing the worry and fear all over Dean. The poor man is dying on the inside. "And I want to thank you for opening your home to us while we are here."

"Well, ya'll are Ellie's family," Dean says with a grin. "Ya always welcome here."

"Ellie?" Bernard asks, never having hear the name before.

"That's what people 'round these parts know me as," Ellie explains.

"Why would you change it?" he questions her.

Looking at her father she is slowly starting to remember why she left in the first place. "'Cause after Jackson passed… I needed a new start."

"How many new starts do you need, Bess?"

"_Bess_?" Dean eyes her funny and she just looks away. He'll ask later.

"As of now… I don't need any more new starts," she tells her father. "I'm mighty happy here. Dean is a very good man an' this is it fer me."

Bernard looks unimpressed.

"Look, sir… I know I ain't got much as of right now," Dean says, standing right up against Ellie, arm to arm. "An' I already know Ellie here's a far better gal that I done earned myself…."

"At least you understand that," Bernard says.

"Daddy! You be nice!" Ellie raises her voice instantly.

"You do not talk to your father that way, Bess," Bernard warns.

"An' don't you talk down ta Dean in his own home, _father_," Ellie returns with quickly, earning a red faced father. She regrets her words right away. "I'm sorry, daddy. But ya'll are stayin' in Dean an' Sam's home. They've been kind an' welcomed ya in so be a gentleman."

The stare down begins but luckily gets interrupted.

"Oh! Uh, hello," Sam's voice is heard saying. When the group turns around they see Sam putting a full pail of water by the door. When he sees the company he pulls off his hat and hangs it on the wall. He walks over, hands running through his long hair to tame it a bit. "It's nice to meet ya'll. I'm Sam Winchester."

"Hello, Sam," Bernard greets and the rest just nod, the room still tense with the previous moment.

Sam looks around the room of strangers until his eyes fall on the petite blonde woman that he knows must be Louise. She already is looking at him with very wide eyes, her perfect lips turned slightly up. She's gorgeous. Just stunning. The second their sights meet Louise looks away and blushes furiously.

"Well, I can have supper on the table in just a bit if ya'll excuse me," Ellie breaks up the moment and walks back to the stove.

"I'll help you," Louise offers and heads that way. Her eyes slide up to Sam as she passes him and this time he's the one caught looking. He snaps his focus elsewhere and Louise grins wide as she heads for the stove.

"Ya'll just make yerself comfortable," Dean offers. "I need ta clean myself up fer supper, Sam too. An' Mister Noonan, can I git ya a stiff drink after that long ride?'

Bernard lightens up just a touch. "That would be fine."

Dean nods and he and his brother go to clean up.

While they're gone Louise and Ellie post up in the kitchen corner of the house, speaking quietly so no one hears them.

"You didn't tell me Sam was so…."

"Handsome?"

"My word, Bess," Louise awes, trying her best not to look over at him as he leans over the wash bowl, splashing water on his face. "He seems quite kind and polite, too."

"Sam went ta school," Ellie starts telling her about the man as she stirs the potatoes cooking in a pot. "He's quite intelligent, loves poetry, reads like his dang life depends on it… he's a real good man."

Louise looks suspiciously at her sister. "Why are you speaking about him like he's the prize pig at the fair?"

Ellie smirks. "I just knew ya were gonna like him plenty is all. I know ya, sissy." Louise can only roll her eyes with a grin at that. It's all true.

Once Sam washes his face he heads for the second floor, smiling at the women as he passes, Louise turns nearly cherry red when he does.

After they've cleaned up, both men making sure they also change their soiled clothing to be more presentable, Dean pours Bernard something from his whiskey stash.

Before he can hand it over his dog rushes past him and heads into the house, excited by all the commotion inside.

"Who is this striking creature!?" Bernard asks as Cass puts his front paws in his lap and licks his face. This is the first time the man's shown levity and happiness since he arrived.

"That there is Cass," Dean tells him. "He an' Ellie've been best friends since she arrived here."

"He is quite a good looking boy," Bernard comments, scratching behind his ears. "He reminds me of our dog we had when Bess was just a child."

"I think that's why she like him so much," Dean says. "Sometimes I wonder who she love more, me or that mutt." He laughs and holds out the glass to Bernard.

Bernard doesn't take it at first. He gently pushes Cass off his lap and takes the glass slowly, his demeanor back to cold very quickly. "That is a very big, very meaningful word you just used, young man."

Dean looks bewildered until he recalls his words. Love.

"I know, sir. I apologize if'n that makes ya uncomfortable," Dean says, never once denying how he feels.

Bernard bites his tongue, eyes the young man evilly, and takes a sip. He then coughs. "What in Sam Hill is this?"

"Whiskey, sir," Dean answers, confused.

"This is pop skull at best," he says and hands it back to Dean before turning to Catherine. "Dear, could you fetch my Evan Williams? I think this boy needs a lesson in what real Oh-Be-Joyful should taste like."

"Yes, dear," Catherine answers with a tight lip, standing up and walking to the trunks by the door as Daniel helps her.

"I apologize, Mister Noonan," Dean says, looking down at the glass he was just given back. "Out here a fine bottle a' whiskey ain't exactly easy ta come by."

"Plus… they're expensive."

Dean gets the implication he's making.

"Alright, ya'll," Ellie says, placing plates of food onto the two small tables pushed together, Dean having bought a second one and some chairs so that Ellie's family can all fit. "Time ta eat."

"Dean, won't you take that bottle from Catherine and pour us each a glass. Sam too," Bernard offers. "Need to teach you both about the finer things in life."

Dean nods and takes the bottle from her, Catherine's face apologizing for Bernard's attitude. He winks at her and Catherine smiles. Dean knew it'd be like this.

Once everyone sits, Sam finding himself a spot next to Louise and making her grin shyly with his closeness, Bernard speaks up. "Everyone hold hands."

Dean and Sam exchange looks, Dean's face silently pleading that Sam will go with it. Sam shakes his head no sharply. Dean gives him a look that begs for compliance this once. Sam sighs, ready to deny it, but suddenly he feels a slender, tiny hand slip into his. When he looks at Louise she smiles small and Sam's heart skips. Well, maybe he can pray this one time.

"Dean, why don't you say grace. This is your house after all," Bernard says.

"Uh, well, yessum," he says, Ellie gripping his hand tighter to reassure him. He bows his head, as do the rest, and he starts. "Lord, please bless this here food that we 'bout ta eat. Ya found in it yer heart to let us be so fortunate an' we thank ya for that. An' please bless the lovely Noonan family that done come a very long way ta visit us. Their travel was safe an' having a house full a' family is a wonderful thin'. An'… thank ya fer sending Miss Ellie to us. I know I say it plenty but… I ain't never gonna say it enough. She the best thin' that could happen ta us. We thank ya, Lord."

The table all says Amen before digging in, Ellie and Dean eyeing each other quickly and smiling happily. It'll be a long visit but well worth it if in the end they get to be together.

* * *

The rest of the day was difficult. Daniel spent it eyeing Dean over and asking a lot of questions about his job and land, making sure his sister was well taken care of. In the end, a belly full of supper and a glass of the rot-gut Dean snuck him, Daniel is on Ellie's side. Dean is alright.

Louise spent her time listening to her parents speak to Ellie and Dean of their plans while really just looking at Sam when she could. There was something about him, something kind, wounded, and very sweet that she can see already. When he left the main room to sit on the porch with some sweet tea that Ellie poured for him, she joined him. They spent their time speaking of the last books they both read and really nothing very important.

Bernard never let up, however. Catherine seems to have taken a shining to the two Winchester men but Bernard is a hard headed, very judgmental man. He wants nothing but the best for his oldest child and he has his reservations.

And then came the time for everyone to get some sleep and the awkwardness settled right back in. The house is small and with four extra people in it, it is very cramped.

Sam gave his room up for the time being, as he's a gentleman. Louise and Daniel are staying there and Sam has decided that a simple bedroll by the fireplace will have to suffice. Ellie denied this idea for a long time but eventually she gave up. She knows Sam well by now. He's stubborn as a mule.

Dean was more than happy to let Bernard and Catherine take his room. He cleaned it up meticulously and made sure it was up to snuff. It didn't stop Bernard for mentioning the mattress wasn't all that comfortable but at this point Dean's used to his little jabs here and there. He can put up with it until the man leaves for Virginia if it means in the end he gets to have his Ellie.

Then that leaves Dean and Ellie. It would be beyond improper for the two of them to share a room at this point and before now they never did. Ellie said she regretting giving into desires before her wedding day with Jackson and she didn't want to repeat that so they've been in their own rooms every night… until now.

"Are you comfortable, Dean dear?" Catherine asks kindly, tucking the sheets in extremely tightly around his body.

"'Bout as much as I'mma be, Missus Noonan," he smiles politely despite how highly uncomfortable he is.

"Ain't nobody do this anymore, momma," Ellie complains like the young lady she really is. "It's so old fashioned."

"Well, we don't have much of a choice now, do we?"

"Yer awful worried," Ellie tells her mother from the other side of her bed. "I think this is a bit much."

"It isn't," she assures, looking over her work. The wooden board running down the middle of the bed separating them paired with sheets and blankets wrapped around each so tightly they can't move.

"But I'm feelin' a lot like them Mummies in Egypt right about now. We ain't gonna do nothing, momma. I promise. Ya don't have ta worry," Ellie says to her quite worried mother.

"And I didn't think I had to worry the first time around either," she says curtly and gives her daughter a look.

"What'd ya mean?"

"I know, sweetheart. I know all about it."

Ellie's face drops. "How?"

"When you left your sister was lonely. We've become quite close. No secrets," she winks and heads for the door. "I'm not disappointed but this time around I want to take precautions."

"Missus Noonan?" Dean calls out to her before she retires for the night. She turns to look at him with a sweet expression. "I know what ya talkin' 'bout. Ellie's been honest wit me from the git. She told me she don't want that mess this time 'round an' I respect that. We ain't gonna do nothin' inappropriate, not 'til we married someday. I wanna respect her wishes."

Catherine grins at him with something very sappy. She clearly adores his words right now. "Then I guess this arrangement will not be a problem for you, Dean," she smiles. "Goodnight."

"G'night, momma," Ellie responds while her mother closes the door. She sighs and looks to her side, just catching Dean over the wooden plank. "I can't move."

Dean gives it a try and manages to just turn onto his side. "I ain't got much wiggle room neither." He lays there, looking at her with a grin. "Been quite a day."

"Oh, darlin', I'm sorry 'bout them," she apologizes from her depths. "My daddy was so hard on ya."

"He's just worried 'bout ya," he shrugs, getting it.

"But he don't need ta be such a mean ol' rip over it," Ellie explains. "He went outta his way to put ya down in yer own home an' that ain't right."

"I'll work on him," Dean smiles. "Already got yer brother on my side."

"Oh, ya sure did," Ellie laughs slightly. "He was good and roostered by the time you were done wit him."

Dean laughs too. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Sure did," she agrees easily, fine with his tactics. "And ya got Louise on yer side too. She like ya a lot."

"Not as much as Sammy," he looks at her knowingly.

"This where I get ta say it?"

"Let 'er rip," he rolls his eyes.

"I told ya so!" she says with delight. "I done knew it! I knew she was gonna like him so much! She loves tall men an' smart men an' she always likes the quiet, kind, thoughtful types… an' he's all those things."

"Well, she ain't alone in that, I can tell ya that much," Dean says right back. "I ain't never seen Sam so stumped by a girl before… well, since Jessica."

"It was nice ta see," Ellie admits. "An' now daddy must be havin' a fit."

"Why's that?"

"Both his daughters makin' eyes at a couple a' farmers in the same day?" she huffs a laugh. "He's probably got another fancy lawyer back home lined right on up fer her already. He ain't gonna like her lookin' at no one else."

"No other farmers, ya mean?" he asks, still slightly self-conscious of his occupation right now.

"Just 'cause daddy ain't a fan a' handsome grangers don't mean that I ain't," she says with a soft, sweet smile, reminding him what's important here. "An' please, my daddy runs a really big farm at home. That's what a plantation is. He's just a farmer in sheep's clothin'."

Thinking about that for a second, Dean realizes she's completely right. He lets out a gut busting laugh at that. "He seem a whole lot less frightenin' now."

"Good," she says, trying to move a bit but being unsuccessful with how tightly she's ticked. "Ugh, I don't like this much."

"I agree," Dean huffs, trying to get comfortable in their situation and not getting anywhere.

"If I'mma lay here this close to ya it'd be nice ta at least kiss ya goodnight," Ellie says in a longing voice, Dean being so close to her yet so far away it's silly.

When Dean looks at her, mischief in his eyes, she gets nervous.

"What ya 'bout to do, Dean?" she wonders with nerves. He wiggles his eyebrows and struggles to turn over in bed facing away from her. She can see him moving about but she has no idea why or what it is he plans to do. "Dean!" she harshly whispers. "What ya doin!?"

"Don't ya make a fuss over there," he warns.

"Ya gonna get us in trouble," she giggles as she watches his troubles. After a few minutes she can see his arm make its way free. "Dean! No!"

"Ya said ya wanna kiss," he rebuts and squirms his way out of the tightly tucked blankets.

"Ya done lost it," she laughs out at him as he stands up and walks to her side of the bed.

Sitting onto the floor next to her he gets face level with her. He takes a second to just look her beautiful face over. "If ya wanna kiss… then ya get a kiss, Miss Ellie."

Her lovey-dovey grin forces its way onto her face and before she knows it his lips are pressed to hers, staying there for a moment to really enjoy the feeling of connection and affection after a day of being constantly monitored. Over the passing months, Dean and Ellie had found themselves very easily transitioning from very good friends to much more than that. Maybe it was because they always had feelings of love for the other that uncovering them and letting them free felt much better than lying to themselves any longer. Maybe it's because they have an oddly quick trust in the other. But Catherine was right after watching them all day. She did have something to worry about. Physically they were always close to each other, touching when they could manage, and this was them on their best behavior with family around.

But Ellie wasn't lying when she said she was waiting. She's well aware that if she wanted to experience a full physical connection before marriage Dean would have given in to his weakness for her already. But he loves her and he wants her happy above all else. If she said wait, he can wait. It'll be difficult but… he can wait.

Still lying on her back in bed, head turned to look at him as he sits next to her, face just an inch away, she smiles at him and shakes her head for his insanity.

"How ya gonna git yerself tucked back in?" Ellie asks with slight worry.

"We'll worry 'bout that after we figure out how we gonna git _you_ tucked back in," Dean turns it around and reaches for her blankets.

"No! Dean! Stop!" she says with half seriousness and half glee as he starts pulling her loose.

"Too late there, darlin'," Dean says as he frees her. He then pulls the board in the middle of the bed off and slips into the blankets again, scooting her over as he moves.

"Ya done lost yer dang mind fer good this time," Ellie laughs as he presses right against her, lying on his side facing her with his arm around her back. "My daddy is gonna beat ya senseless if'n he catch this."

"We'll fix it by morn," Dean promises her. "Ain't no one gonna be the wiser. I swear it."

"Ya gonna git my parents mad," Ellie says with a lifted eyebrow, looking into his eyes as her own hand snakes its way around his waist, coming to press into his back as she cuddles into him.

"Worth it," he says and places a hand to her cheek. He looks her face over and sighs. "My word, yer pretty."

Even in the dark he can see her cheeks get rosy.

"Ya always say such nice things ta me," Ellie points out to him, her eyes cast downward out of sudden shyness. When he compliments her she always got that butterflies in the stomach, only girl in the world feeling. It all somehow came so easily to him.

"It 'cause I like ya so much," he tells her, tipping her chin up so he can see her eyes in the moonlight coming through the one window in the room. "Even if ya family insufferable."

"Dean, I really am sorry 'bout them…."

"Shh," he tells her, pressing a very quick kiss to her apologetic mouth. "I ain't never been this close ta ya before now. We shouldn't be talkin' 'bout our families."

She grins wide with what he says, his point very valid, and she leans into him more, kissing him seriously and imagining how nice it'll be once they get married and everyone leaves. They can have this every night and then some.

When Dean pushes his limits a little further by letting his tongue sweep along her bottom lip he couldn't be happier when she sighs with a very quiet moan and lets her own tongue slide against his. Every small, new moment of discovery with her has been so big, so enjoyably exciting that Dean's become highly addicted to Ellie. He wishes he could spend his days just like this.

And Ellie goes with it easily, falling into the moment. He smells of sweat and soil from working all day, from doing what he can to build their life into what they want, and it makes her love him more. And God… he just feels so good.

His hands suddenly have a mind of their own as they start to wander. Having given up his time with Joanna in town he's been celibate for a long while. He's nearly forgotten what a woman can feel like, how soft and curvy and inviting the female form is, and he wants to remember. Dean _really_ wants to remember. And the fact that it's Ellie, the one girl he's had stuck in his brain for so long now, that he's lying next to makes it all that much harder to listen to his promises.

As the arm around her back lowers and a hand cups the curve of her ass, Ellie gets worried. "Dean, this ain't a good idea."

"It's a terrible idea," he tells her and keeps kissing her lips hungrily, knowing they have to stop soon.

Ellie responds, kissing him right back as her hips cant forward into him, the feeling she's getting from him far more powerful than she's prepared to fight. This is a lot like how she felt her first night with Jackson before they were married. She couldn't fight it then but she likes to think she's stronger than that now.

"I wanna wait, Dean," Ellie reminds him, ending their kissing and pressing her forehead to his as they both pause to breathe heavily and compose themselves. "Please don't make this any harder 'an it already is."

"I think that meant ta be a joke," Dean says, his own body ready to follow through.

"What?" she asks, not getting it.

"Ain't nothing, El," Dean says to her, taking his hand off her ass. "Ya right. I went too far. I'm sorry."

"S'alright," she says to him and snuggles into his side as he lays onto his back. He pulls an arm around her shoulders and she drops a hand on his chest. "It ain't like I don't wanna."

Dean huffs a little laugh. "Oh, I know ya wanna."

She swats his chest. "But I wanna do it Accordin'-ta-Hoyle this time. I wanna do things right wit ya."

"That's fine an' all but… Ellie, ain't neither of us exactly pure."

When she looks up at him she sighs. "I know. I just… I don't wanna mess this up. I care 'bout ya. I _love_ ya."

"An' I love ya right back," Dean says to her. "Ya know that."

"I regretted what I did wit Jackson," Ellie explains to him. "Our wedding night… it wasn't as special as it coulda been. We took that away when we… got overseas. But… I want it ta be different wit you."

Dean grabs ahold of her hand as it rests on him.

"I hope ya don't think this me tarnishin' my Jackson's memory… but I ain't never once felt like this 'bout anyone, Dean. I ain't felt love like this before now an' I want it ta be done right."

With such a massive statement how could he ever not give her whatever it is she wants?

"Ellie, I can wait fer ya," Dean says, kissing her forehead. "It ain't no problem at all."

* * *

When she can hear movement coming from the upstairs bedroom above her, Sam's room, Ellie begins to wake. That was always her morning bell. Sam moving about at dawn. It wakes her in time to have coffee at least started for when he's dressed and ready to start his day.

When she inhales deeply with her waking mind she smells that familiar smell of hay and fresh dug soil that she knows well. Usually it's something so inviting and comforting but right now it seems off.

Ellie opens her eyes and looks at the pillow next to her. Dean.

"Dang it!" Ellie panics instantly and pushes up off of him as she had been laying her head on his chest. She slaps her hand down on his long-John's covered chest to wake him. "Dean! Dean, ya get up right now!" she harshly whispers with total fear.

"Mm? Ellie?" Dean gets out as he wakes up with her assault.

"We fell asleep! We gotta fix this 'fore my parents find us!" she says with total fear and Dean's suddenly wide awake.

"Balls!" he says and they both scramble out of bed. Ellie moves to her side as Dean replaces the wooden board down the middle of the mattress. "Lemme tuck ya in tight right quick."

"How ya gonna git yerself tucked in?" she asks, total worry written into her face.

"Don't ya worry 'bout me, darlin'," he assures, winking at her as he replaces the blankets in the way he remembers Catherine having done. "I got me a plan."

"That's what makes me worried, dear," she says, her voice shaky.

Once she's back in order Dean rushes to the door and cracks it open.

"Dean! No!" Ellie worries aloud.

"Sam!" Dean whispers out to the man sleeping on the wooden flood of their house in a bed roll. Sam's eyes flutter and Dean tries again. "Wake up, ya idjit! Sammy!"

"Dean?" Sam asks, looking around while confused by his surroundings for a tick. He's not in his room. When they meet sights Sam just looks at him questioningly.

"I need ya help. Git up right quick!" Dean says and disappears into Ellie's room again.

He takes a second to shake the sleep out and gets up, rolling his back and neck with how badly it all feels from the floor. He regrets giving over his room now.

Ambling over to the doorway, Sam takes one look inside and gets why his help was so needed. "What did ya'll do?" he laughs out a little, seeing the mess they made. Nothing is as it should be and, in what looks like hasty efforts, they've made more of a disaster then they did fix it.

"Help us put this back up right," Dean says, jumping into bed and looking at him with wide eyes.

"Ya stupid… ya'll know that," Sam says without moving, making them sweat it out for their unthinking ways.

"Git a wiggle on!" Dean says with more alarm, trying to tuck himself in.

"Yeah, I will but… ya'll didn't go… pirootin' or nothin', did ya?" Sam asks slowly.

Ellie's face goes red and she looks away with awkwardness.

"Sammy, no! We just… I'll talk ta ya later! Help us out! Be a good brother!" Dean shout/whispers.

"Alright, fine," he rolls his eyes at them and gets to work. He has them back in order as best he can in no time. The wooden board in place, blankets fixed and hard tucked, and Sam's satisfied just in time to hear to hear someone coming down the stairs. Sam rushes out of the room to his bed roll just in time.

"Good morning, Sam," Catherine greets as he looks like he's casually rolling up his meager bedding.

"Mornin', Missus Noonan," he grins wide at her, looking to appear calm and collected despite not being so at all. "How did ya'll sleep last night?"

"Well, thank you," she answers. "Better question is did you sleep well down here on the hard floor. I hate the idea of putting you out, Sam."

"It's ain't a thing at all," he assures, looking over to Ellie's bedroom door quickly. It's cracked open. He never shut it all the way. Damn it!

"Well, considering you have to work out on the crops all afternoon I would say it _is_ a thing."

"No, no. Ya'll are guests. It's fine, Missus Noonan."

"Catherine," she corrects.

"Catherine," he smiles, liking her more and more.

"Well, I better go get the love birds," she says with a smirk. She heads for Ellie's bedroom but stops short when she sees it's cracked open. Getting a very suspicious feeling she rushes into the room.

"Mornin', momma," Ellie grins wide, Dean next to her smiling as if everything is just peachy. "Ya sleep well?"

Sighing, Catherine just eyes them for a moment. Something seems off. A mother's intuition is never wrong.

"I did," she says curtly. "Why is your door open?"

Dean and Ellie lay there silent for a second.

"Her door been doin' that, ma'am," Dean excuses and lies. "I meant ta get on that sooner but, wit it bein' the summer season an' all, I ain't had the time ta fix it right."

"It seems sturdy to me," Catherine say, checking the door out.

"It just… don't worry 'bout such things, momma," Ellie says. "That's fer us to worry 'bout. I gotta make some breakfast so Dean an' Sam can get out into the fields. Can ya get us out?"

Catherine pauses again, knowing something is very wrong here, but she relents. Starting on Dean's side she pulls out the covers and sets him free. Dean sits up and makes a show of it, stretching a lot.

"Uh! Feels good ta move again," he says, Ellie hiding her smile at his joke.

Catherine then untucks Ellie, but not before noticing how the tuck job on her side looks hasty and not at all how she left it.

"Thank ya, momma," Ellie says and gets up.

Dean walks to her and kisses her cheek. "I'mma get dressed."

"I'll make coffee," she grins and kisses his lips once.

As Dean leaves Ellie grabs some clothes for the day. Her mother just stands there, hands on hips, looking at her.

"What is it?" Ellie asks her.

"You aren't fooling me, little girl," Catherine accuses quietly.

"We didn't do nothin'," Ellie promises when she knows she's caught. "I swear it, momma. Dean's a good man."

"I know. I believe you," Catherine says, always able to tell when her daughter is lying or not. They clearly got out of her fix yet they also very clearly didn't do anything untoward. She kisses her forehead. "But just don't let your father know that I stopped bundling you two from here on out. If he finds out I will not take the fall. I will lie and save my own self, you understand?"

The bright smile on Ellie's face would put the sun to shame when she hears this. "Thank ya, momma!" She hugs her mother tightly. "I love ya!"

"Loving me would be what's best for you," she jokes right back. "Now, best get dressed and make the coffee. I know two young men that will be waiting for their breakfast before a long hard day of work."

Catherine pats her daughter on the bottom once before heading for the door, fascinated by the relationship her eldest has found herself. Having actually been a fan of Jacksons, with reservations of course, she feels this Dean fellow is quite the catch in the long run. She's beginning to think Ellie is marrying for all the right reasons, whether Bernard sees that or not, and she's very proud of that girl of hers. Despite the rules and customs of the south she's raised her girl to be smart and strong, something she'll always hold her head high about.


	33. The Promise of the West (Part 12)

**Author's note: I apologize for the delay. I'll try to be better this week. A lot in store for you excellent readers!**

* * *

A week into their visit and tensions have eased up a touch. Bernard still hasn't lightened up all that much but his tongue isn't quite as sharp, leaving several opinions to himself instead of spewing them rudely for his hosts to hear. For that Ellie is quite grateful.

On the second Friday morning of their time in South Dakota, Ellie wants to make sure everything for breakfast is made and ready by the time everyone gets up. She wants all people staying there, especially her father, to be in a very good mood today.

"So… ya still gonna talk ta daddy today?" Ellie asks as she rolls over onto her side and faces Dean, waking him up with her movement and words. She runs her fingertips down his face gently, his stubble needing to be taken care of.

"Mmhmm," he hums his groggy yes as he comes out of his deep sleep, moving his cheek into her touch a bit.

"Sorry," Ellie apologizes with a little embarrassment. "I woke ya mighty early. I'm just so nervous." She giggles a little. "I want it ta go well."

"Don't ya worry, pretty little lady," Dean says in jest with his eyes still closed, pulling an arm around her tightly and pressing himself flush against her front. "I'mma make ya mine an' I'mma do it right. It'll be just fine."

"You're just a thoroughbred through an' through, ain't ya, Mister Winchester?" Ellie says in jest and leans forward, pressing her lips to his unexpecting ones. He barely is able to respond before she's gone. Slowly his eyes open to look at her through the very dim light of the first touches of dawn. Her dark eyes seem darker without a light source and they pull him in instantly.

When he presses into her harder Ellie looks away, suddenly flushed a bit.

"Dean, I… maybe we shouldn't be so close." She tries to back away a bit when she can feel his hardness so early in the day.

"Ya afraid of it?" Dean asks with a grin on his face, looking at her awkward demeanor once he understands what it is making her nervous.

"No. I ain't at all afraid… an' that's why we need ta separate," Ellie tells him plainly and pushes on his chest lightly.

Smile widening, Dean pulls his arm away from her and she backs up. "Aw, I like ya Ellie," is all he can think to say when she expresses her lack of fear when it comes to physicality. She's no stranger to love making, she's been married, and her enthusiasm is somehow comforting.

"I can tell that ya do," she jokes quickly back, earning a hardy laugh from him. "I'mma get up."

"Can't ya give me just a couple more minutes? Ya so warm an' nice…."

"Ya don't need warmth in the summer."

"But ya feel nice still."

"An' that's a problem still," she laughs. "Dean, ya gonna just fall right back asleep an' ya know it."

"No I ain't," he claims, eyes already closing again.

"Oh, ya big ol' liar," Ellie says to him with certainty as she grabs her dress. Before she even buttons it up she can hear the light snoring that means Dean's asleep again. She knew it. Dean was not a morning person as much as he'd try and pretend to be.

Once dressed, her hair brushed and up for the hot summer day she can already tell it will be, Ellie makes her way to Dean's side of the bed. With a hand combing through his very long hair, hair that she's told him needs to be cut soon or else he'll start looking like his younger brother, she can't help but grin softly. Today is the day. They will make it through this and they will be together.

She kisses his cheek lightly, Dean humming in his dreams with it, and Ellie leaves the room. She closes the door softly behind her and makes her way to the stove. Luckily Sam's given up on sleeping on the floor as his back began to ache with it after a couple days. However, he wouldn't let the Noonan adults give his room back. He's taken up residency in the barn hay loft, claiming that the comfort he finds up there from the loose hay can trump the smell of the horses below. Luckily they only owned two.

As she walks out to the side of the barn to the water spigot, Ellie looks around her. The purple-pink colors in the sky as the sun prepares to show up for the day paint the world in a warm glow, one that she's never once been able to see in Virginia. The land is spacious, the town is growing by the day, and the farm is comfortable to her. She loves it here.

While she pumps water, Ellie can't stop grinning. Dean's asking for her hand today, properly. She mentioned their intentions in the message she sent home months back when she decided to stay in the Dakotas instead of move home. She told them she was so happy, that she wanted to marry Dean one day and that she hoped they would be willing to visit and see for themselves the good life she was carving out for herself. They quickly agreed, her father getting back to her immediately. He was dead set on checking out the farm, the town, and the man himself. Over the past week Ellie has felt hopeful that her father has seen the hard working, good man that Dean is and how happy she is out there in the Midwest… and how much they do in fact love each other. Dean makes her happy. Very happy. That should be enough for Bernard.

She prays that it is.

Water pail full, Ellie picks it up and heads to towards the house, stopping as she passes the barn doors and hears someone moving about. Thinking it's Sam, she pauses to walk with him to the house.

When a five foot blonde woman exits the barn doors instead of a six and a half foot, dark-haired man her heart skip with surprise.

Once Louise closes the barn door, she turns around in her night dress with her long hair down and stops short with fear when she sees her sister standing there.

"What in Sam Hill are ya doin' out here!?" Ellie asks but she already knows.

"Bess, um… I just… I…." Louise quits trying when she knows she has zero explanation that will be acceptable. Instead she just shrugs and looks lost. "Don't be mad."

With a face of shock, Ellie marches right for her sister and grabs her arm with her free hand. "Ya done lost yer dang mind, I swear! Ya tryin' ta get daddy ta kill a Winchester or what!?"

"I'm not trying to make trouble," she vows as Ellie drags her to the house.

"Of all the days ya coulda pulled this here stunt…."

"What's today?" Louise asks her older sister, looking at her with confusion.

"It ain't nothin'," Ellie shoves the thought away and keeps pulling them back to the house. "Ya gonna get dressed right quick an' we gonna pretend this ain't never happened."

"Bess, what's today!?" Louise asks again, stopping her feet and refusing to move until she's told the answer.

With a heavy sigh, Ellie puts the water pail on the grass and looks at her sister with crossed arms. "Dean is gonna talk ta daddy."

"About?"

She fights the smile threatening to break out on her face. "'Bout us getting' married. We wanna do it before ya'll head on back East. We want everyone there."

Louise breaks out in a wide smile and launches herself at her sister, hugging her tightly. "Oh Bess, that's wonderful!"

"Sh!" she shushes Louise. "Ya wanna wake the damn house up an' get caught out here like this!?"

"No! I'm just excited for you!" Louise says and backs away. "Can I be your maid of honor?"

"Let's just see if'n I get a blessin' from daddy first," Ellie stipulate. "Ya know what a hard case he can be."

"Oh Ellie, I hope he says yes," Louise says to her. "I really like Dean. He's a good man. And he works hard and he has his own land… and he's real easy on the eyes."

"Hobble yer lip, Louise. That's my man," Ellie laughs a little but expected no less from her sister. She smiles and has pride in what a fine specimen her intended husband is.

"Let's hope so," Louise tells her before her face drops to something serious, eyes glancing back at the barn. "Uh, Bess?"

"Yessum?"

"Do ya really like it out here as much as ya say?" Louise questions.

"A'course," she answer. "Why would I lie 'bout that?"

"You wouldn't," Louise relents as she knots her fingers together and looks down at the ground. "I think I would like it out here too. It's so pretty and so different from home. And… I miss you."

Ellie grins wide. "I miss you too."

"Wouldn't it be nice if I could move here?" Louise says, eyes peeking up from the ground to tentatively look at her older sister.

And it clicks.

"What ya sayin', little sister?" Ellie asks with shock. "'Cause if'n my brain is right, I'm thinkin' ya just came out of that there barn after someone mighta put a mash on you."

"Oh, Bess!" Louise complains. "I didn't do anything improper. Sam is a gentleman. Last night when I snuck out he told me to march right back inside."

"But he didn't know how stubborn ya are, did he?"

"No ma'am," Louise laughs. "We did nothing. Sam didn't even touch me. We just… talked. A lot. And fell asleep some distance from each other. He's a nice man, Bess. He's kind and so smart… and I really like him."

"I think everyone in that there house know ya like him, Louise," Ellie scolds slightly. "You two ain't exactly been secretive."

"I can't help it," Louise says with all sincerity. "The second I met him? Oh, Bess… I knew I liked him. We talked about books we read and he's read so many. And he talked about his Jessica and his mother. He's seen so much sadness. He deserves to see some happiness."

"What does Sam think about all this?" Ellie has to ask. "He's been a quiet man living a life a' solitude fer some years now…."

"I know. He told me that too. He's worried about women in his life… but he said you proved that they aren't cursed like he thought. He said the happiness you bring to Dean and even to him is proof that maybe one day he could be happy."

"What did he say 'bout _you_?" Ellie asks nice and slow, looking for a straight answer.

This is where Louise breaks into a smile that is just brilliant and excited. "Sam said he could see himself with me. Happy. Here. And I said I could see the same."

Ellie nods while looking around the back of the house, the sky quickly losing it purples and being replaced with warm reds and oranges. This is a turn of events she didn't see coming. She knew Sam and her sister had something but it was most likely innocent and small in her mind. Just a shining they took to each other. She figured Louise was happy in Virginia and Sam was frightened to have a relationship still. Now… everything looks different.

She wants Sam happy. Lord knows he's earned that for himself. And the idea of having her sister out there with her, being with each other while having families and growing old together, that sounds delightful.

But their father will have a fit. Their mother would be lost with no daughters at home. Their parents would not be pleased with this idea.

"I suggest ya take it easy, Louise," Ellie warns finally. "Sam is… he's been hurt. And he'll need some time."

"I don't have a lot of time before we leave."

"I know that. But… just get to know him for a week more is all I ask," Ellie says. "Ya know I'm against arrangin' marriages an' I'm sure daddy's got some successful man back home lined up fer ya…."

"Marcus Black," Louise answers. "Daddy's been mentioning him a lot around the dinner table."

"So tread lightly, dear," Ellie keeps saying. "Ya best be sure this is what ya want before ya go raising a stink."

"Alright," Louise nods, agreeing to those terms.

"An' please, don't do nothing 'bout Sam today. Just not today," she all but begs. "Really need today wit daddy to go well."

Louise smiles. "If he protests he's just one uppity dullard. Dean is a really good man. He'll take good care of you, I can tell."

"He will," Ellie grins with love. "Louise, I swear… I ain't never felt like this before. I love him so much."

"I'm happy for you," Louise tells her and hugs her hard. "I'm _really_ happy for you."

"Thank ya."

"And I don't wanna miss you anymore," Louise tells her, hugging her tighter. "At home, after you left… it's not been the same."

"I know," Ellie agrees, hugging tighter right back.

"If this works out… if me and Sam are really something to be had… I want to live here," Louise says, backing away from Ellie to look her in the eye. "Home doesn't have much for me these days. Out here… it's so beautiful. There's so much possibility."

"Ya don't have ta preach to the choir," Ellie laughs. "Please, just let me an' Dean settle our future. You go an' make sure this thing wit Sam is the real deal. Then… we'll talk to daddy if this is really somethin' ya want."

"You'll talk to him with me?" Louise says with bright hope.

"As much as I don't wanna, yessum. I will. Ya lucky I like ya so much."

Louise grins like an absolute idiot over that idea. She then reaches for the pail on the grass and hoists it up. "Let me carry this for you."

"No," Ellie laughs, taking it from her. "Ya need ta run inside lickity an' get dressed right quick 'fore someone sees ya. An' ya better pray that Daniel ain't about ta tattle on ya!"

"Oh it's fine," Louise grins before taking off. "I have some dirt on our little brother that has set me free for life." She winks and disappears into the house, Ellie shaking her head the whole way in herself to start breakfast.

Coffee made and bacon sizzling, Ellie starts flipping fried eggs when a tall man comes in through the back door.

"G'mornin', Ellie," a tired voice greets as Sam hangs his hat on the hook by the door.

"Mornin', Sam," she grins knowingly. "I trust that ya slept well?"

"Yessum, I did," Sam lies as he heads for the coffee pot. Ellie snatches it first and starts to pour him a mug.

"Funny. Ya look tired," Ellie says to him in a voice that's light and playful. "If'n I didn't know better I'd say you were up late… maybe talking ta a lovely young lady inta the wee hours."

Sam stares at her with wide, scared eyes as he takes the mug of black coffee. She smirks at him.

"Sit down an' eat 'fore the hoard joins ya and takes all yer food, will ya?" she says, pointing with her spatula to his usual seat at the table.

He takes it without argument, sips his coffee silently, and listens as Ellie hums through her morning work. He knows he's caught. He has to say something. "I'm guessin' ya done talked ta yer sister this mornin'?"

"After catching her sneakin' her way back inta the house, I sure did."

"Ellie, nothin' improper happened. I vow it…."

"I know," she stops his damage control. "Louise told me."

He swallows hard. "Ya mad at me?"

Ellie grins wide and plates his breakfast. She turns to him and walks to the table, placing the food in front of him and sitting in her usual chair next to him. "I ain't mad 'atcha."

"Ok," Sam answers back with confusion.

"Sam, I love my sister. I missed her like the dickens when I left home. She's a good woman, very kind an' very bright… an' she told me she's mighty impressed by you."

With cheeks turning pink, Sam looks around the room awkwardly. "Well… I'm mighty impressed wit her too. She's read a lot a' great books an' she's quick witted… an' I like her company."

"How much?" Ellie grills him with narrowed eyes. "An' please, tell the truth. Sam, after all this time here… I love ya too. It ain't just 'bout yer brother. An' this ain't just 'bout my sister. I care 'bout ya."

Sam's taken off guard by this. He knew they were friends but she's showing she cares about him as much as Dean and as much as her own family. He's impressed by her and her honesty once more.

"I want ya ta be happy," she continues. "An' I don't believe in marrying for nothin' other than love. I know it early but… Sam, do ya think my sister would make ya happy? Every day an' fer the rest a' yer lives? Because if not I promise I won't be upset. I just want what's right fer everyone one."

Sam smile sat her shyly. "Ellie, I like yer sister. I know we just met an' all but… we…." He smiles wider when words fail him.

"Say no more, darlin'," Ellie say to him, patting his hand on the table when she can see it written all over his face before standing up to get back to work. "You just spend time getting' ta know her. Make sure this is right. Past that, if ya happy… I'll back ya up. Daddy can be a real muggings."

Sitting in his shock, Sam just watches as Ellie plates up more food, setting places at the table for Dean as he needs to get his day going and Louise as she already knows she'll be down soon enough.

Looking at Sam after he never starts eating she knows she really bowled him over with this one. "Sam, eat up while I get yer dinner together ta bring wit ya. Ya got a long day out there. Better have a full stomach."

Shaking it off, Sam picks up his fork and starts to eat. His luck may have finally turned around. Ellie's in agreement. He's less scared suddenly. He doesn't feel worried about having these surprisingly fast feelings for the woman he just met that is nothing like he assumed she'd be. Louise is quick witted, sharp, and surprisingly caring and warm despite her at first biting attitude that would turn most men off. And she's beautiful with her straw blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

For the first time in years Sam feels his heart skip a beat as excitement starts to rumble in his gut.

"G'mornin'," Sam hears the quiet voice he's grown to know well over the past week greet. When he looks towards the stairs he sees Louise making her way to them in her light blue dress and her hair in a bun atop her head. She looks lovely.

"Don't be tryin' to put on airs fer nobody, Louise," Ellie calls her out for acting like it's the first time she's seen Sam all day. "I done caught ya red handed an' I already let Sam know."

Louise sighs heavily. "You're such a pill, Bess."

"An' ya adore me for it," she winks and heads for her bedroom.

As Louise and Sam lock eyes and grin at each other like they're the only ones in the world sharing a very important secret, Ellie heads for her room to tell Dean to get his lazy bottom out of bed to start his day.

* * *

"Mister Noonan?"

Bernard looks to his left and sees Dean standing in the doorway, two empty glasses and a bottle of whiskey in hand, a better bottle than he had to offer last week. He bought a new one when they went into town on Sunday for mass as a family. It was the first time he'd been to Meeker's in damn near a year. He's trying so hard.

"Yes?" Bernard asks, puffing on his hand-rolled cigarette as he rocks in one of the rocking chairs on the porch on a balmy summer night.

"May I have a word wit ya, sir?" Dean politely asks, keeping a calm exterior as his insides run a mile a minute with anxiety.

"Since I see you brought out something better to drink this time I guess I can't see the harm in it," Bernard grumbles a bit and points to the rocking chair next to him.

"Thank ya," Dean nods and takes a seat, pouring two glasses. They clink tumblers and each take a sip while looking out over the land in front of them, sun setting beautifully out in the wide expanse of land.

"So is this where you ask for my daughter's hand while trying to sell yourself on me?" Bernard questions, not once looking at Dean as he speaks to the coming night sky.

"Uh, well… yes, sir," Dean huffs a quiet laugh. "My Ellie wants us ta do this right an' I want ta give her everythin' she wants."

"Well, Dean, _my Bess_ deserves a whole lot," Bernard says with a little bite. "And I am not quite sure you have the means to give her that."

And there it is. The fight he was ready for. "Sir?" Dean starts and Bernard looks over to him. "I know I ain't what Ellie's used ta back home."

"That is true."

"But she don't want what's back at home," Dean sets it outright. "Over the year that she's worked fer me an' my brother I got to know Ellie well. We were good friends first an' we done talked a lot. I know she don't wanna marry rich an' live back East. An' I know she don't want ta do what other people tell her ta."

Bernard looks at Dean hard as the young man surprises him with how bluntly he's chosen to speak to him. He respects it. Dean is showing he's willing to work hard to win his daughter. "Well, at least you understand Bess and her hard ways and you aren't trying to go into a marriage with her with closed eyes."

Dean smiles slightly. "She a real tough gal. An' I like that 'bout her."

"You do?" Bernard questions, surprised yet again.

"Yessum, I do," Dean repeats. "She… Ellie is very carin'. She shows love ta everyone an' is always so kind… but she's strong willed. She knows what she wants. I can respect that."

"I don't know how I feel about a man that wants such a bullheaded woman," Bernard says to him. "It makes you look like you might be off your rocker for wanting to deal with a woman like her. I tried to raise her right, make her a perfect wife for a rich man someday, but I think my own wife had other plans."

"She's tough like Ellie," Dean says, grinning as he knows it's true.

"Not quite as but yes," Bernard says to him. "She made sure her daughters were… more independent than I am comfortable with."

Dean just nods and sips his whiskey.

"Ellie isn't easy," Bernard sends his warning. "She can be pigheaded as all get out… and I have had my share of fights with her enough to know that winning an argument with her is a true battle."

"Oh, I like me a good challenge," Dean assures.

Bernard huffs a laugh at Dean's assuredness. "Now, I know why a man such as yourself would want to marry a girl like my Bess. She is a good person, her heart full of hope and her veins full of ice when she's got her mind set on something. And she is a vision. There are not many girls that can hold a candle to my daughters… which might just be a bad thing instead of a good thing."

"When ya right, ya right, Mister Noonan," Dean nods, agreeing with all he says.

"But you must tell me, Dean… why should my lovely daughter want to marry you?" he asks with a lowered brow and all seriousness. "What can you bring to her life that a nice, handsome, rich lawyer from the Old States couldn't?"

Eyes widened for a second, Dean clears his throat. "Well, sir… I know I ain't exactly the proper man ya had in mind fer Ellie. I ain't properly schooled an' I'm just a granger from a line of grangers."

"That's what I am seeing."

"Then let me tell ya what ya don't see," he says and gets ready to give the sales pitch of a lifetime. "I'mma hardworking man. Ever since my daddy couldn't take care a' this here farm when I was just twelve I been workin' hard to run this place. We ain't never once had a bad harvest, my brother ain't never once gone hungry, an' we ain't never missed a payment on this here property… which I now own the deed ta outright."

Bernard doesn't flinch even with that impressive news.

"I have a plan, sir," he keeps going even though he has no feedback on how he's doing. "In a couple more harvests me an' Sam'll have enough money ta buy more land ta the east of our property, doublin' the acreage easy. We'll make double the profits every year an' I plan ta start buildin' me an' Ellie a nice big house a' our own. One wit enough space fer a family. Three kids, just like she wants."

"She always said she wanted to be a mother," Bernard recalls from Ellie's entire life. She always played with dolls and called them her kids. And she always had three, just like her parents.

"An' she'll be a very good one at that," Dean says with certainty. "I wanna have a family wit her. I want ta build her a big ol' house an' support her. I want ta run this farm wit my brother an' set it up right so that our sons will have somethin' big an' wonderful ta inherit. An', sir… I want ta grow old right here, on my farm that I love… wit the one woman I love more an' anythin' this life got ta offer."

Bernard's face lightens just a touch with that but he still says nothing.

"I promise ya that if ya let me have Ellie's hand she ain't never gonna want fer nothin'," Dean vows to him. "I'mma take care a' her every second of our lives, just like I did when she lost Jackson an' when she got mighty sick. I… I care 'bout her like I ain't never cared 'bout nothin' before now an' I consider myself the luckiest man in this here world just 'cause she gives me the time a' day. I know ya think I ain't good enough for her, sir… an' that's 'cause I ain't. But not even some rich lawyer back in Virginia is good enough fer her. Ain't no man ever gonna be good enough fer her. I just plan to work my hardest to get as close to worthy as I can until the day I leave this Earth."

Dean takes a deep breath after he's done talking. He knew how he felt but he'd never thought he'd be able to say all that and do it so well. Guess his love for Ellie made it all easier than he thought it'd be.

Looking back out over the land, taking a big gulp of whiskey and thinking for a minute, Bernard sighs. He nods his head with a sad face and says, "Alright."

Confused, Dean asks, "Sir?"

Bernard looks at him. "You have my blessing. You can marry my daughter."

His mouth opens to respond but his voice fails. Bernard laughs at the comical moment.

"Dean, I came all the way out here to see why it is my mule of a daughter refused to come home. I know her well. I was ready for some terrible, outspoken, obnoxious man like Jackson Hall to be what I met here. You… well, you are not him. You have real ambition instead of some half-cocked idea that Oregon is the answer to all of life's problems. You have a working farm that brings in money, one that you kept going after your father couldn't do so, and you have a business plan for the future, son. That's mighty impressive."

"Thank ya, sir," Dean says, his shock still running through his body.

"I expect you to achieve your goals for this farm, young man," Bernard warns. "I don't want to hear word that this operation went under for reasons of sloth or poor judgment."

"Ya never will."

"I like that confidence," Bernard says. "You have game and you're not the pie-eater I was ready to find. And, more over… I have never once seen my daughter so happy. I know I'm hard on her but that's because she needs it. I knew when she left with Jackson that she made the wrong choice. She loved him, do not mishear me, but he was not a man I was comfortable letting my daughter be with. I made excuses, told her he was no good and going nowhere in life… but I just knew he plain wasn't good enough for her. He had no plan, no direction… and he didn't value her like she deserved."

"That will not happen to her here," Dean makes yet another promise he more than intends to keep.

"Watching ya'll the past week… I know that to be true," Bernard informs him. "I may not like how close you've gotten before getting married properly at some points but you are young and in love."

"I apologize, sir." Dean looks away embarrassed for his actions.

"No need, no need…. How much money would it take to purchase the land you are eyeing to the east?"

"Oh, uh… I reckon two more harvests worth a' earnings. I'd have ta ask in town exactly how much it is these days since I reckon' it gone up in the past year with the town expandin' an' all," Dean figures. "If I play my cards right an' the weather cooperates, Sam an' me will have saved enough fer the land an' the seed it'll take to plant it right off in two summers. An' I would be able to start buildin' that house right off too. I been watchin' my pennies since… well, since I met Ellie."

Bernard glances back behind himself to see his women all sitting at the table playing cards, Catherine smiling brightly. She's a very pretty woman, even in her older age. Ellie got her looks from her mother completely.

"A good woman'll make you straighten yourself out awfully quick," Bernard comments before smiling at Dean for the first time since he's arrived.

"Ain't nothin' truer never been said, sir," Dean smirks and clinks his glass with Bernard's, both drinking down their whiskey and looking at the stars as they start to pop out into the black sky.

"You know I'll come back here with my shotgun if you ever hurt her, right?" Bernard adds in, never looking at Dean, eyes up at the sky.

"Oh, I know it," Dean says.

"Glad that ya do, son."

Dean laughs a little bit at that.

"Uh… Dean," Bernard starts as he can hear Sam says something behind him in the house followed by his younger daughter laughing lightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Can you tell me a little more about that brother of yours?" Bernard asks, looking at Dean knowingly.

Dean peeks back into the house and can see Sam smiling wide as he refills Louise's glass with water. She grins lovingly up at him and Dean gets it right away. Ellie told him something was up but he never took it seriously until now. If Mister Noonan has noticed then it must be something.

"I'll tell ya anythin' ya want 'bout the best man I've ever known, sir."

* * *

The next day carries on like the rest with one exception; planning has begun.

Ellie and Dean were now to be married and they wanted to do so before her family went back to Virginia. I would be a long time until they came back, if ever, and Ellie insisted on her father giving her away and her mother being there along with her sister standing by her side.

So after Dean and Sam made it out to the fields, Ellie and her mother sat at the table and spoke about what they wanted. Some ideas were tossed out, some explored, and it was agreed that the Noonan family would use one of Dean's wagons to head into town and start getting others involved, like Ellen for food and Meeker's for spirits since Dean's name was once a well-known one there. Ellie neglected to mention that detail.

After brainstorming Ellie realized she never made the men a dinner to bring with them on the fields. They had plenty to do on the very hot day and she couldn't have felt worse for neglecting a very big duty of hers so after speaking to her mother at length she packed up some left over bread, some cheese, a couple of apples, and some left over crumble cake her mother was kind enough to make for the house the night before.

"Louise!?" Ellie calls out once she has the two pails packed and ready and she's out the back door. Louise comes running for her, Cass hot on her heels as the two have become fast friends. Ellie wasn't the only dog lover in the family.

"Yessum?" Louise says, laughing as Cass jumps up and licks her face once, his agility clear as day.

"I forgot them farmer boys' dinner this mornin'. Ya wanna come wit me an' feed them hard workers?" Ellie smiles wide, knowing her sister would surely come with. Any time she could steal with Sam was a good time.

"I'd love to," Louise says and takes one of the pails from her, hoping she got Sam's. They walk in relative silence, Louise grinning the whole way with excitement. She had a smile like this every dusk when she knew the men would be returning from the fields each night, always ready to speak with Sam about books and just nothing in particular yet again.

"You made good plans?" Louise asks out of nowhere.

"We did. Daddy's goin' full out for this one," Ellie says with a grin. "I think it's a good sign."

"Oh, Bess. I told you already. Daddy likes him. This is different from last time. He isn't Jackson."

"I know," Ellie says sadly, remembering her former husband for just a moment.

"And don't you go and get sad about Jackson neither," Louise says sharply. "He was a good man but he wasn't as good as Dean. It's sad what happened to him, may he rest in the sweetest peace… but you need to move forward."

"I am, Louise. Ya take it down," Ellie scolds her little sister.

"Good. 'Cause I must say…."

Ellie looks at her sister when she doesn't finish her sentence. In her eyes Ellie can see nothing but desire for a moment, the feeling clearly flashing through her system before she could regain control of it.

Confused, Ellie follows her sister's sights and easily figures out why Louise was captured by awe so quickly. Off in the not too far distance is Dean and Sam working away at weeding a patch of land that had become overgrown by invasive crab grass from the edge of the tilled plot. Dean is standing tall, taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat from his brow with an old handkerchief while leaning on the handle of his shovel stuck into the soil. And then there's Sam….

The tall, broad man is hunched over in the hot summer sun. As he stands up to survey their progress with brow furrowed and hands on his hips, Sam's bare torso is on full display. He took his shirt off when the heat got unbearable and he only assumed no women would be in the area at any point. He's strong, his muscles well built over time with the rigors of his job, and he's coated by a sheen of sweat over his tanned skin.

"My word," Louise comments quietly, almost to herself only, and she swallows hard. She fell for him not exactly for his looks, though his handsome face and bright hazel eyes paired with a brilliant smile didn't hurt, but knowing that his body looks like _this_… if she wasn't in love before she sure is now.

"Can ya try an' contain yerself, sister?" Ellie whispers to her as she keeps walking on after the quick break to visually appreciate. "Or else how're we gonna be in their presence if'n ya got drool on ya chin."

Her sister laughs as Louise blinks away her lust. She really does need to compose herself so she can actually speak to the beautiful man in front of her.

"Afternoon, gentlemen!" Ellie calls out to give them at least a little bit of a heads up that they're approaching.

"Well, well!" Dean calls out when he looks over to find his gal heading towards him with a pail, Louise right behind. He catches Sam's flinch as he scrambles for his white linen shirt he'd tossed to the ground and hastily put it back on. "Guess we ain't goin' without dinner after all!"

"An' let ya'll starve as ya work this hard out here?" Ellie jokes and walks right up to him. "I'd never." She grins and presses up on tip toes to give him a kiss in greeting.

"An' that's exactly why I'mma marry you," Dean says to her, pulling her close by a hand on each hip, leaning down for another, longer kiss as her parents aren't around. Ellie giggles a bit but goes with it.

"Howdy, Sam," Louise says to him, keeping a few feet between them as he fixes his shirt. She looks at her shoes with slight embarrassment.

"Howdy, Miss Louise," Sam returns with, equally shy suddenly while tucking his shirt back in.

"Ya'll have been working hard out here. Ellie thought you could use a break and some food," she tells him and holds the pail out to him.

"That's mighty nice a' her… you too," Sam smiles and they just take a second to grin silly at the other.

"Sam, here," Ellie says suddenly, pulling a small book from her dress pocket. "I brought that poetry book I gave ya out. I know my sister would like it so I thought ya could peruse it during dinner break."

"Uh, thank ya," Sam says, caught off guard by Ellie's willingness to give him and Louise time together.

"Can we go by that tree over there?" Louise asks, hooking her arm in his. "It's very bright today."

"Shade would be good," Sam agrees and they walk off to the one of the only tree on the cleared out farm land.

As they walk arm in arm, Dean just stares at them a moment. "They look mighty funny like that."

"Like what?"

"Walking arm's linked like that. She's so dang short an' he's tall as a barn…. Looks silly."

"I don't think it look so silly," Ellie denies his thought as she leads him to the barn to sit in shade just the two of them. "I think they look lovely."

"Lovely?" Dean looks at her, adjusting his hat. "What's lovely 'bout it? They just…." He pauses when it dawns on him. "Oh, ya done set this up!"

"Well, I never!" she says, acting very hurt that he'd assume such a thing but she immediately grins wide to let him know she's joking.

"Ya sly fox," Dean name calls. "Ya know, I been noticin' them makin' eyes at each other a lot."

"Me too," Ellie says with a grin, watching Sam and Louise settle down under the tree for a picnic dinner. "Louise is all but smitten wit yer brother by now."

"Is she now?" Dean asks, eyes narrowed on the couple.

"Yessum, she is," Ellie says. "An', I wasn't gonna tell ya, but I caught her sneaking her way back inta the house the other mornin'. She done slept out in the barn."

Dean eyes blow wide with fear.

"Sam ain't about ta git shot at by my daddy," she laughs, knowing that was his fear. "They ain't done nothin' inappropriate. They just talked a lot."

"I'll bet it," Dean grumbles.

"No, Dean, I trust my sister ta tell the truth," Ellie tries to easy his mind. "An' ya know Sam's a good man. He ain't gonna do nothin' untoward."

Dean nods and they walk on, his brain processing everything. "Did ya know yer daddy also noticed them bein'… quite friendly?"

"He did!?" Ellie asks with alarm.

"Yes ma'am," Dean smirks at her. "He was askin' me 'bout Sam an' what kinda man he is."

"What did ya say?"

"Told him that Sam is the best man I done ever knew an' it ain't 'cause he's my brother," Dean explains as they sit down in the shade of the red barn behind the main farmhouse. "An' that even though he's my younger brother that I done looked up ta Sam our whole lives. He's always been the brains, me just the brawn. Sam is educated, well read, wise past his years, an' he ain't never been mean a day in his life. Sam done made me look like a mudsill on many an occasion an' I ain't never been _too_ much of a mudsill. Well… on my good days that is."

"Ya ain't no mudsill so ya stop sayin' that malarkey," Ellie tells him as she swats his shoulder, kissing him right after to ensure he gets it. "An' that was mighty kind a' ya ta tell my daddy all that."

"It's the truth, ain't it?" Dean challenges and she grins as he opens his dinner.

"It is."

"Aw, I knew ya really did love me," Dean smirks at her when he opens the left over crumb cake from the night before.

"Darlin', yer heart's in yer stomach," she giggles at him. "That's the second thing I learned 'bout ya when I moved in."

"What the first thing?" he wonders right before he takes a bite out of his dessert far before he considers eating his main lunch.

"I learned pretty dang fast that you, Mister Dean Winchester, are the kindest man I have ever met."

Dean pauses, mouth full and crumbs on the corners of his lips, and just looks at her. Muffled by food, he then says in return, "Aw, Ellie."

She lets out a full body laugh at him, the man just minutes ago looking strong, sweaty, and oh so manly on the fields suddenly just adorably little boyish. "I swear. Between hay an' grass!"

"Ya watch yerself, young lady," he says with jest after swallowing down most of his bite. He then has to wonder, "So what's all this Sam an' Louise stuff about anyways. She's just gonna up an' leave in a few weeks' time."

"Maybe," Ellie says to him, watching his expression turn to surprise pretty quickly. "But I don't know fer sure that my sister's gonna be headin' back ta the Old States anytime soon… not if she get what she want, anyways."

"What she want?"

"She wants Sam."

"Huh," Dean says, seeing this whole thing as an actual possibility for the first time. "Ya think Sam wants this?"

"He does."

"Ya know?"

"Talked ta him the other mornin'. He said he likes her… could maybe love her. I think he already does," Ellie admits to him.

Dean leans back into the barn wall and sighs. "So… ya think she really gonna stay?"

"If'n us talkin' ta daddy goes well. An' if'n ya'll both want her here."

Dean looks at her and smiles a little. "Ya missed her, didn't ya?"

"So much," Ellie rolls her eyes, stealing a piece of Dean's bread from his pail and taking a bite. "She's my best friend, darlin'. Can ya imagine livin' away from Sam?"

"Not ever," Dean quickly answers. "So I guess I know yer opinion on the matter."

She smirks at him. "This ain't my home, Dean. It's yers an' Sam's. It matters what you two think."

His face dropping, Dean puts down his crumble cake and reaches for her hands, grabbing both. "I don't ever wanna hear ya say that again."

Ellie blinks a couple times with surprise as he says this to her.

"This here is yer home too. Hell, it's more yer home than either mine 'er Sam's. Before you it was just a place we messed up an' slept in. _You_ made it a real home, made it warm an' livable. It matters what ya think."

Her smile is bright and lovely. She's not used to this at all. Before, back at home, the men ran the house and the women shut up, had children, and cared for the home with little to no thanks. It was their assumed duty. But Dean is nothing like that. He's grateful for everything she does and he cares what her opinions are on all matters that would affect her. He's different than the rest and she couldn't be prouder that he's all hers.

"If Sam's gonna love her an' be good ta her… then I want Louise ta stay," she says to him. "I want my sister in my life."

"I'll see what Sam says," Dean says to her, taking his hands back and resuming dinner, taking a massive bit of cake and getting crumbs all over his face.

"Ya like a child, dear," Ellie plays with him as he wipes his face with her bare hands. She then kisses his lips as he chews.

"Ya love me still," he rebuts.

"Yeah, I really do."


	34. The Promise of the West (Part 13)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

The ceremony was quick and small in the town church. Ellie wore the beautiful, white ruffled dress that her mother brought for her from Virginia, assuming things would work out. Dean begrudgingly donned a suit, pressed and clean and he never once complained in either of Ellie or Catherine's presence. He knew better.

The ensuing party was one for the books. Sioux Falls was not used to this kind of shindig but when Virginia plantation money comes into town then the vendors come out with offers like no one's business. The whiskey was free flowing, the food from Ellen's inn was impressive, and the music lasted through the night. The next morning there would be several town-dwellers asleep in the mud of the main street, plowed over by the night, as proof of a celebration well done.

But in the midst of the rambunctious fun there was the joining of two people, two very in love and very happy people, and that's all that truly mattered to both Dean and Ellie.

"My word, there ain't a gal in this here country that's prettier than you," Dean says to his bride as they stand in the midst of a crowd of people outside, dancing slowly and smiling at each other.

"Ya don't have ta make a mash on me anymore, Mister Winchester," Ellie lets him know with a wide, bright grin. "Ya got me fer good now."

"I ain't never gonna stop tellin' ya how pretty ya are, Miss Ellie," Dean says lightly and then thinks twice. "Pardon… _Missus_ _Winchester_."

She giggles. "Oh, I like that."

"I as well," he says and leans down to kiss her good, onlookers be damned.

"Ya'll stop makin' a scene out here!" they hear Ellen say as she approaches them. "Ya done made enough a' commotion as it is!"

"Hello, Miss Ellen," Dean greets, his spirits high with the day. He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.

"Best watch who ya getting' familiar wit these days, boy," she swats at him in jest. "Don't wanna interrupt yer time but I wanted ta give ya'll a lil' somethin' fer ya night." She hands Dean a key.

"What's this?" Dean asks.

"That opens the door ta ya room fer the night. On me," Ellen says. "It's all set up fer ya. I know ya'll don't wanna head back ta that full house a family on yer first night, now do ya?"

Ellie's face lights up brightly and she plows right into Ellen, hugging her hard.

"I'mma guess I done got ya the right gift," Ellen laughs.

"Yer just Aces-high, Ellen. I swear," Dean smiles like he's never smiled before. He immediately takes Ellie's hand when she ends the hug and marches for the inn, body on autopilot. "Thank ya kindly, Miss Ellen!"

"Ya kids enjoy yer night," she laughs at them and they disappear into the crowd, Ellen watching the two happy young people go.

"That's mighty nice a' ya, Miss Ellen," she hears a gruff voice say and when she turns around she sees Bobby from the general store across from her inn grinning politely at her.

"I done thought so," she answers.

"Uh, Miss Ellen… would ya like ta dance?" Bobby asks her and he gives her his friendliest grin.

And Ellen smiles right back, taking his hand. "Long as that lovely wife a' yers don't mind me borrowin' ya."

"Aw, she don't mind," Bobby promises, taking a moment to dance with an old friend.

* * *

"That Ellen is the best dang woman in Sioux Falls," Dean laughs, pulling Ellie along quickly and getting them through the front door of the inn.

"That she is," Ellie laughs, right back, more than happy to ditch the overdone exuberance of the lantern filled streets that contain nothing but well fed and well quenched townsfolk. They only knew a fraction of those there anyhow. Her parent just knew how to throw a good celebration.

"Where ya'll off to!?" they hear Catherine ask and when they turn back from the bottom of the large staircase in the open foyer of the inn they see her standing there arm-in-arm with Bernard.

"Oh, um…." Ellie turns bright red. "Momma, Miss Ellen gave us her nicest room for the night as a gift. We're gonna stay there tonight instead of head on home wit ya'll."

"Now I understand the rush," Catherine smirks.

"_Momma_," Ellie warns, embarrassed a little.

Bernard shifts uncomfortably on his feet. "Well then, if ya'll are retiring for the night I guess now's the time to hand over your dowry of sorts."

Ellie's eyes grow wide with that. She thought she gave up an inheritance of any kind long ago. This is a surprise.

"Mister Noonan, ya didn't have ta go ta the trouble…." Dean starts to say but Bernard cuts him off when he hands him a thin stack of parchment papers, folded into thirds.

"If my daughter is to stay out here then she shall be with a man that is prepared to thrive and give her a life she deserves."

With a questioning look, Dean unfolds the pages and reads, Ellie cluing him in on some of the bigger, more difficult words they'd yet to encounter while she's been teaching him to read. Once Dean reads enough to get the picture he looks at Bernard with shock. "This is a land deed?"

"To the plot to the east of your property that you've been saving for," Bernard informs him, getting very wide eyes on him from the younger couple. "I expect next season's harvest will double your profits instantly."

"But old man Devereaux…."

"Is one hard case… but for the right price he's quite the gentleman," Bernard answers for Dean. "And if you ever want to expand more let him know. He has more land that he may be willing to sell off to the north of your farm also."

"I, uh…." Dean tries to properly thank him but falls short. He looks to his new wife with total shock. She just grins wide with the generosity she didn't expect from her wealthy father. "Mister Noonan, ain't no one ever done nothin' that nice fer me before."

"Well, it's about time they did," he says. "I know you'll be a good husband to my oldest girl. I love her dearly and I'll do all I can to make sure she's set up right in life."

"Thank you, daddy," Ellie says and hugs her father, so impressed with how well this whole visit has gone. He's accepted Dean completely and he's proven he can be compromising and open-minded. He's not what she always assumed he was, not completely at least.

"I love you, Bess," Bernard says, something he rarely ever does.

"I love you too, daddy," she says right back, getting a little choked up. When she backs up she's shocked to see her father blinking rapidly against watery eyes.

"Now you two go on and have a nice night together," Catherine tells them. "We shall see you in the morning for breakfast."

"Mornin'?" Ellie wonders.

"Oh, dear, we're all staying in town. We knew Ellen's plan since last Sunday when she told me after mass. Now git!"

Dean doesn't move and instead holds out his hand to Bernard. "Thank ya fer everyin', sir."

"You just treat my daughter right and we're square, Dean," he answers shaking his hand.

"Every day a' my life," Dean responds.

Ellie grins at him with utter happiness and he takes her hand, the two practically sprinting up the stairs.

"I like him, Bernie," Catherine says to her husband. "You remember our wedding night?"

"How could I forget?" he laughs. "You already had Ellie brewing up for four months by then."

"Shh!" she shushes him with embarrassment, hoping none of her children were around.

"Aw, it's fine, dear. You were still thin as a rail. Nobody knew," Bernard kisses her cheek and she laughs it off. "I am mighty proud of that girl of ours."

"Me too," Catherine gushes easily. "She's smart. And she most certainly loves that boy."

"That she does," Bernard says while listening to Ellie's voice giggle happily from the second floor before hearing a door slam shut. He then looks over at his wife, still so beautiful, and tells her, "Well, she learned from the best example after all."

* * *

"It's so nice," Ellie awes as she looks around the spacious room, the shutter doors open for the balcony over the street. The ruckus is loud and fun and will be for most of the night. Luckily those shutters can close.

"Miss Ellen really fixed this place up nice," Dean comments, the colors of the fabrics warm. There's a bottle of Basil Hayden on a small table by the door with two glasses. "An' she's smarter 'an the dickens."

"You wanna drink more?" Ellie asks, looking at him with hope and maybe some surprise.

Dean looks away from the bottle of very good, very renowned booze to look at his girl, his _bride_. Her big, overdone dress with ruffle detailing silhouettes her so perfectly it should be wrong. And her hair is up, something he loves. Her neck, exposed and inviting, always turned him on. And her face, oh her face, is bright and has had nothing short of the most beautiful smile on it all day. She's happy. And she wants to be right where she is over anywhere else.

"I don't wanna drink more," Dean says to her with full sincerity, his feet taking him across the room to her, his hands landing softly on her hips. She grins up at him, reaching high to pull the grey bowler hat her mother insisted he wears off his head. Underneath his hair is parted and combed perfectly, making him look like the gentleman she knows he is deep in there. His suit, tailored and impressive, makes her smile.

"I know ya didn't like wearin' this all day," Ellie says to him with a slight laugh. She runs her fingertips down his lapels. "I appreciate ya obligin' momma like this."

"She's gone and given me her best possession today," Dean says to her, holding the side of her jaw lightly as he looks at her. "This here terrible clothing is the least I could do."

"Oh, I don't think it's so terrible," Ellie tells him with a little smirk in her tone.

"Oh, no?"

"No, sir," she answers, fixing his collar a bit before looking right up into the greenest, most exceptional eyes she's ever seen. "I think ya look like the most handsome man there ever was."

"You should see me without the getup," Dean comments slickly, arching one eyebrow.

"Dean!" Ellie chastises lightly with a grin, looking away. He loves that he can get her flustered like that.

"Well, do ya wanna?" he wonders, pulling her attentions back on him as he pulls a single white flower out of her well done hair. "We're married now. It ain't improper no more."

"No, it's not inappropriate at all," Ellie grins with eyes full of something very new to him, something that looks down right desire-filled. "Can ya excuse me fer just one moment?"

"Yes ma'am, I can," he answers and leans down, kissing her quickly. "As long as ya don't keep me waitin' too long."

"Never, darlin'," she promises and walks for the standing partition in the room, disappearing behind it. "Can ya shut them widows?"

"Be happy to," Dean quickly answers and he rushes for the open shutters. As he goes to each one, shutting and locking them as he does, at one point he heard the town drunk, Garth, hollering out.

"Dean! Ya gonna make that girl happy 'er what!?"

The street below, filled with celebrating townies, lets out a big cheer as Dean just smiles awkwardly and gets the windows close.

"Well that ain't embarrassin' 'er noth… oh my word…." Dean stops midsentence when Ellie makes her way back out into the room again. Her wedding dress is gone and she's left in her billowy white slip, the dressing detailed with eyelet lace, and her corset around that. She also still has her white lace nylons and her pointed, side button, heeled boots on.

"I, uh… I can't get outta this thin' on my lonesome," she says with hesitance. "Do ya mind?'

"Not at all," he says with awe in his tone as she walks to the four-post bed. She holds on to one of the posts and shyly looks at him over her shoulder, suddenly feeling the nervousness set in. She's slept next to him in bed and they've been closer than close for months now… but this is different. This is what she's been waiting for since seeing him shirtless in the back of the farmhouse a year ago. This is what they've both hinted at and danced around since Dean blurted out his love for her in order to stop her from going home. And now she's nervous. Very nervous.

Dean gets to work, untying and loosening her corset lacing little by little. Once loose enough he watches her take a deep breath.

"I don't know how ya'll do it," he jokes, his voice low and rumbling through her ears roughly, the tone she knows as one of want for her. Not once has he made it a secret how badly he wants her body since she told him how she also felt. He lifts the piece over her head and she watches him toss it without a care.

"I wanted to look beautiful for ya on our weddin' day," Ellie explains as he runs his hands down her arms as he once more steps up behind her, replacing them lightly onto the bedpost. "I just wanted ya to like how I looked."

"I always like how ya look," Dean says quietly into her ear. He then places his lips on her neck, kissing slowly once and making her exhale hard. "Ya always look beautiful ta me. Ya don't even have ta try."

"Ya getting' sweet on me… all that soft solder an' such," Ellie tells him, her voice unsteady as she shivers when he kisses her skin again.

"Why ya shakin' so much?" Dean questions, kissing her shoulder before turning her head gently towards him. They make eye contact and he can see her worry. "Ya alright?"

"I'm mighty nervous," she admits, letting go of the post to turn around and face him straight on. She places her hands on his fully clothed chest. "I know I shouldn't be but… what if I ain't any good ta ya?"

"Yer bluffin'," Dean says with total surprise but the way she lowers her gaze and shakes her head makes him realize she really is so scared. "Ellie, it's just me. Ya know me."

"An' I really want ya to be happy but it's been so long an'… the first time I did this fer the first time it wasn't so… good. I want this ta be good."

"Calm yerself," Dean says before ducking down and kissing her again. She sighs into his mouth with how good it feels to be this close to him, lips on his. Dean wraps his arms around her body and pulls her tightly against himself as her hands fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. "You an' me, Ellie. There ain't nothin' scary ta be had here. I love ya, more an' I love anything ever before now."

"I love you too," she grins up at him.

"Then this'll be good, sweetheart," Dean promises her, kissing her cheek before he surprises her. He swiftly bends down and picks her up, scooping her up under her knees. She giggles lightly, hanging on with arms around his neck, and she never loses eye contact with him as he places her on their bed. "Ya get comfortable. An' stop worryin' 'bout things."

Ellie smiles wide at him as she watches him closely. Starting with the button closures, Dean works with one foot at a time. He opens and removes her boots with care and a grin. Once they're gone he kneels on the bed between her knees, hands on her right thigh. He takes his time, rolling her stockings down slowly and letting his fingertips dance over her skin as he does. Ellie exhales with contentment and growing need for him, his every move enticing.

"Don't ya move yet," Dean tells her with a wink before he gets up, her stockings now gone.

Without a care in the world Dean steps away from her and walks to the foot of the bed. Systematically he removes piece after piece of clothing, his jacket and vest right down to his boots. When only left in his white t-shirt and under britches he makes his way back to their bed. He lies down next to her, rolls onto his side and pulls an arm over her middle.

"Ya feelin' alright?" he checks in on her.

Ellie nods, her only answer for him,

"Ya fibbin'?" Dean questions, his hand weaving into her loosely pinned up hair as he scoots a little closer to her.

"No. Yer right. Why should I be nervous?" she smiles at him. "It's you."

"Darn tootin'," he jokes. "Come 'ere." He places a sweet kiss on her lips and lightly takes ahold of her hips, not looking to jar her as he pulls her on top of him.

Settling there, a leg to each side of him, she gets comfortable with this new kind of closeness. He lets her have the position of power over him, something that shocks her as she only assumed he'd be diving in hard with how much waiting she's caused him. But he's not forcing himself on her or pushing her in any way, something far too few women in her day gets the pleasure of experiencing. Her Dean would of course be nothing but patient and attentive, making sure she's where she needs to be for this.

"Ellie, I ain't once thought I'd be here in my life… married to the most beautiful gal I done ever seen. I ain't special an' I ain't no spring chicken… but fer some reason ya wanna be wit me an' if that don't just take the rag off then nothin' do." He laughs a little to himself as he cups her face above him. "Ya gone an' made my world a heck of a lot better, an' now that we're here… I can't figure how I was gonna live if'n ya went home."

"Ya told me how ya felt before I got on a wagon headed east," she giggles. "How could I turn my back on that? A fine man like you sayin' he done fallen for me?"

"I woulda said anythin' ta get ya ta stay," he tells her and she can see nothing but sheer honesty in his bright eyes, something that he's always been so good at. His eyes always gave away every feeling he's having and she should have seen the truth about how he felt for her much sooner than she did.

"Thank the good Lord fer that," Ellie jests and leans down, kissing him again. He feels so good, his lips sweet with a hint of whiskey and his hands gentle and kind as they move down her neck and learn her for the first time. She doesn't regret waiting. It's making everything exactly what she could have hoped for. "Dean?" she asks quietly against his lips.

"Miss Ellie?" he grins back, looking at her with excitement now.

"I'm alright, dear. I'm ready," she assures him, knowing he was going to worry. "I want ya ta love me."

The grin is unbeatable. She just said the one thing to him that could top all other statements ever. Love her. It's the easiest thing he's ever had to do in his life.

"Then what my gal wants…." Dean starts, craning his head up to meet her and kiss her again. "She gonna get."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Eventually the room goes silent. The commotion stops and stillness reigns as they lay there in bed, Ellie with her entire front pressed to his and her head buried in his neck. When Dean looks up to the ceiling, her hair partially in his eyes, he grins wide. "I'mma go ta church every week wit ya… from now on. That's a promise."

"What!?" Ellie asks with equal parts surprise to hear him say this and confusion as to why he would say it now as she sits up sharply.

"I'mma church goer now," he says, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Why now?"

Dean smirks, grabbing one of her hands and kissing her palm. "'Cause I ain't gonna miss out on heaven… 'cause you'll be there. I ain't livin' 'er dyin' without ya, Ellie. Not after this."

Her face wrinkles up as she huffs a hard breath, her hands coming to his face as she kisses him thankfully. "Now I really am the happiest gal there is."

And he kisses her back, neither moving very far from where they currently are. They have the entire night to be alone and they plan to use it.

* * *

**Author's Note: I am posting two chapters in two days! this is to say thanks for the patience lately. I know I wanted to publish twice a week consistently through this story but you know... life and all. I will be busy later this week so to make sure I get AT LEAST two chapters in this week you get two days in a row. Love you all!**


	35. The Promise of the West (Part 14)

"Do you, Samuel Winchester, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife," the preacher reads in front of the very minimal group in the back yard of the farm house at dusk. He looks down the foot and a half to the woman he's holding hands, eyes locked onto hers with total adoration and affection. "To have and to hold, to love and to cherish in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

With dimples deep and teeth all showing, he easily answers, "I do."

"And do you, Louise Noonan, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband," the preacher reads in front of the very small group of onlookers. "To have and to hold, to love and to cherish in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

Blue eyes locked onto hazel once more, Louise doesn't hesitate. "I'm mighty sure I do." Sam laughs nervously at her for the joke.

When Dean looks next to him at the woman he's linked arms with, sitting with not an ounce of space between them, he can see the watery glaze over them.

"Aw, ya ain't gonna cry, are ya?" Dean whispers his complaint to her.

"I just… I love 'em both so much," Ellie whispers back, her hushed voice choked.

"Ya sappy, Miss Ellie," Dean winks at her and pulls out his old red handkerchief, the one she eventually gave back to him, and he once more hands it over. She takes it and dabs at her eyes.

"….I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mister Winchester."

Unable to contain her excitement, Louise reaches up for him and pulls him down to her level by the back of his head. She plants one on him so suddenly that it makes Sam's eyes near pop out of his head before he goes with it and kisses her right back, the group of close family and few friends cheering excitedly.

Ellie looks to the right at the other man in her life that means the world to her. "Thank ya, daddy."

Bernard just keeps a straight face. "You two girls of mine made a compelling argument for this union."

"An' she's happy," Ellie adds in.

Her father nods while observing Sam and Louise, hand in hand as everyone congratulates them once the ceremony ends. "And she hasn't ever been this happy before."

"Oh my, no!" Ellie laughs, remembering how serious Louise tended to be as a child and then now angry and rebellious she acted as a teen. Her little sister finally was growing up and dipping her toes into the simple yet really good life. And maturing at that. "But Sam… oh, daddy, he's a real good one. Sharp as a tack an' mighty sweet."

"You better watch after her, Bess," Bernard warns fairly. "She's still just a touch over grass. She's awful young for this and to be out of the house…."

"She's wit me," Ellie reminds. "Ya know I'll watch over her."

"That's my Bess," Bernard says with pride as he brings an arm around her shoulders. The Noonan family have been in Sioux Falls for a month now, preparing for Dean and Ellie's wedding and then staying an extra week to be there for Louise's quite shockingly fast union. They will be leaving soon but the time there did the father and eldest daughter well. They've mended their broken relationship and become the pair they should have always been and were when she was just little.

"Don't ya worry about Louise," Ellie promises and kisses her father's cheek as Dean walks off to give his brother a hug. "I know she's a wild one sometimes but I think marriage'll do her mighty well. An' Sam'll keep her in line for certain."

"Sam doesn't seem like he has a mean enough bone in his body to keep her in line," Bernard grumps. "He seems soft."

"He's not soft," Ellie reminds him for the millionth time. "Daddy, he's just… been hurt. His life has been hard an' I told ya all about it so ya should have some sympathies. Trust me, if'n he needs to put a foot down he will. An' he loves her, I know it. They're gonna be just fine."

Bernard sighs as he watches Louise practically bounce up and down with excitement while still holding Sam's hand, never having let go once. "I hope she doesn't start speaking in such a way… like you have." He peeks ta her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Whatcha mean, daddy?" she jokes, exaggerating her new accent. "I ain't talkin' no different 'an ever."

He bumps her shoulder with his own. "Don't get smart with me young woman."

"Yessum, daddy," she grins, kissing his cheek quickly. "I'mma say my congratulations."

"You do that," Bernard says and watches her run off for her very beloved sister and best friend. As much as he's very sad to lose both of his beautiful girls to the west he couldn't be happier to see them go together. They have always been so close that when Ellie left without Louise it felt very wrong. Everything feels much better now.

Ellie runs off to her sister, the shorter girl wearing a very sweet, light pink dress she had in her suitcase and some wild flowers in her hair. She and Sam didn't want the fanfare of Dean and Ellie's wedding, opting for quiet country and their new home over the church and drunken strangers. It was more personal and much more their style. Sam barely goes into town as it is as he's a total home body after losing Jessica. This was how they wanted it.

"Congratulations," Ellie says quietly as she brings her arms hard around Louise's neck.

"Thank you, Bess!" Louise answers back, hugging her as well with a cheek-breaking smile on his face. "I'm so happy that I'm staying here."

"Me too, dear," Ellie laughs, backing away and holding her sister's face. "So happy. Welcome to the family."

Louise laughs hard at that and Ellie kisses her cheek with excitement.

* * *

That night, after much food made by both Ellie and Catherine and much whiskey drank by all, the family retires to their respective place, Louise and Sam once more disappearing to the barn where Sam and Ellie had set up a nice little spot in the hay loft with blankets and candles. Ellie was impressed by Sam's thinking. The place where they first really talked and Louise fell head over heels for the tall, handsome granger was perfect for their first night together, hay and all.

"They should have taken our room for the night," Dean comments as he undresses at the end of the day, his feet failing him slightly with the amount he drank. He trips slightly and catches himself.

"No, no," Ellie says, sitting up in bed already down to her sleeping gown. "It's beautiful up there. The breeze comes through enough to keep it cool, they got candles all over, blankets to wrap up in… it's mighty romantic."

"Some hay over the horses? That's romantic?" Dean asks with disbelief.

"It's where they first spoke," she shrugs. "An' where… they first… _got ta know_ each other."

The way she says it, emphasizing her words, makes Dean pause with his pants half-down. "What ya mean by that… got to know?"

Ellie just grins.

"Before they got hitched!?" Dean can't believe his ears. "They done… _laid_ together!?"

"Shh," Ellie scolds, pressing her index finger to her mouth. "Don't ya go spillin' secrets! My family's still here."

"Well… I'll be damned," Dean awes. "Didn't know Sammy had it in him."

"He didn't," Ellie laughs as Dean walks to the bed and starts to get in. "He wanted ta wait."

Dean looks down at her with wide eyes.

"My sister ain't one to mess wit," she laughs.

"Guess she ain't," Dean says with impressed emphasis. "That Louise is some mountain lions, ain't she?"

"Somethin' like it maybe," Ellie laughs at her sister's expense.

Settling in on his back and looking up at Ellie sitting next to him he sighs. "An' ta think ya made me wait."

"It was worth it!" she rebuts, pressing a hand to his chest as she settles into his side, his arm around her shoulders.

"It was," Dean nods, picking up her hand and kissing the back of it. "I woulda waited my life for ya."

"Still makin' a mash on me," Ellie grins and kisses him. "But my sister is… a very forward thinker. An' she ain't never been afraid of the opposite gender. "

"I see," Dean nods, respecting that to a degree.

"An' I'm sorry I made ya wait. I know that was hard on ya."

"I forgive ya," Dean says, cupping her jaw and tipping her head up so that he can kiss her good. Every night for the week they've been married they've settled in, spoke briefly of the day, and then explored the new aspect of their relationship that is no longer taboo. "Ya don't make me wait no more so what's there ta complain 'bout?"

Ellie giggles with that and pulls him closer, a hand to the back of his head and into his hair. "Ya need ta visit the barber."

He looks at her with surprise. "Do I?"

"Ya gonna look like yer brother soon if'n ya don't," she informs him.

"Was thinkin' 'bout letting it go… like Sam," Dean comments as she combs through his lighter locks, blonde from the time in the sun. "Wouldn't have ta cut it so often."

"I like it shorter 'an his," Ellie admits. "It's more… you."

"I have a style?"

"Not much a' one," Ellie jokes and he grabs her side, making her giggle. "Don't do that!"

"Don't ya say I ain't got no style. I'mma man of style."

"Oh yessum… what was I thinkin'?" Ellie keeps joking.

Dean grins as he lets up on her and kisses her lips once more. "Ya want me ta cut it?"

"Up to you," she says simply. "It's yer hair."

"Well… don't ya look at it more 'an I do?"

"That's a good point."

"Then, what do ya like?"

She grins. "I like it shorter… like when I first met ya."

"Then I'll get to the barber next weekend," Dean answers. "Anythin' fer my Ellie."

Heart melting, Ellie leans into him and kisses him in thanks, letting her hands wander and start their night the right way.

* * *

The next morning Ellie woke early. She snuck out of bed and decided to finish cleaning up from the festivities the night before so that the place would be neat and tidy when everyone woke. Once her task was done and it was beginning to get light out, Ellie picks up the empty pail by the door and heads out towards the barn to fill it.

Halfway there she recognizes the tall man sitting outside the barn doors in the grass all alone. She smiles.

When she gets closer the smile fades. He doesn't look nearly as happy as she thinks he should after his first night with his new bride. His back against the closed barn door, shoulders slumped, elbows resting on bent up knees with his head hung, she's getting a sad feeling from him.

"Mornin', Samuel," she greets with a bright smile, trying to figure out where his head is.

Lifting his sights he sees Ellie standing there in the very first light of day before the sun even rises. She has a pail in her hand and he can see that she's starting her day. He forces a smile on his face that is barely convincing. "Mornin', Ellie… or should I say sister?"

Ellie grins wide with his attempts to cover up his misery. "I still like the sound a' that," she says lightly, walking right up in front of him and kneeling onto the ground, dropping her pail on the grass. Her dress billows out around her in the summer morning breeze and she keeps her hands in her lap. "Have a good night?"

Sam blushes a bit, smiling at his hands in front of him. "I did. Thank ya."

"Hopefully a better night than ya havin' mornin'," she comments, letting him know she sees it on him.

"Am I obvious?"

"As the cat who ate the canary, darlin'. What's wrong, Sam? Shouldn't ya be happy?"

When he looks up at her he looks a little surprised. "I am happy. Mighty happy."

"Except?" she pushes him, keeping a slight grin in place to keep her prodding safe and friendly.

Sam sighs heavily. "I feel… guilt." He looks down once more. "An I know it ain't like I should but… I feel it."

And Ellie understands it right away. She nods, knowing this pain very well. "On account a' Jessica."

His eyes widen and his sights snap up onto her.

"Be honesty, Sam."

His face softens in sheer relief that someone understands him. "I still miss her."

"I know ya do."

"An' I feel like I shouldn't now that I got Lou… but I still love Jessica. It's still in there."

"I know that too… an' ya ain't never gonna stop lovin' her neither."

Sam's eyes grow worried with such a comment.

"Sam… I know I married yer brother an' all, an' I love Dean more every single day… but that don't mean I don't still love my Jackson."

Depression settling in with the information, Sam sighs and blinks a few times, brow lowering.

"That ain't a bad thing," Ellie assures him.

"It is. The guilt… it's bad, Ellie. I feel it every time I'm wit Lou," Sam finally opens up to someone. "I mean, I love Lou like I ain't never thought I was gonna ever love a gal again but… dang. Every now an' then I look at yer sister I, I… I see Jessica. I still miss her an' I feel like that ain't right to do this to her memory. It ain't fair."

"It ain't about fair," Ellie promises, scooting closer to him and grabbing both of his hands, needing to reassure him on something she can more than understand. She knows his pain well and she remembers the guilt he speaks of. "Sam, Jessica isn't gone because a' you. She got sick. That happens."

"I know that…."

"An' Jackson ain't here because that river was running a little too fast to ford that day," Ellie keeps going. "There wasn't a dang thing I could do ta stop it from happenin'. It just happened. It hurt like nothin' else I been through an' it still hurts today… but it just happened."

Sam nods and looks down at the grass below him, commiserating.

"Took a long time ta see that."

"I still don't see it," Sam admits to her. "Still feel…."

"Like ya cursed?" Sam nods his head to answer her and she gets upset. "What is wit ya'll Winchester men and bein' stubborn!?"

"Our luck ain't good."

"Am I alive?" Ellie challenges to which Sam doesn't answer. "Did ya just marry a real good girl that pretty an' kind an' love ya and she's still breathin'?"

Taking a deep breath first, he answers, "I did."

"Then ya ain't cursed!" she drives the point home. "Ya just… having a hard time moving on."

"It ain't right ta move on," Sam sadly says his opinion.

"Yes it is. It is right ta move on 'cause they're the ones that died, not us." She sighs frustrated. "When I finally let myself see how I was fallin' fer Dean… I got so scared. I down right lost myself to sorrow fer a few days. An' then I got myself ta believe that I ain't feelin' nothin' fer Dean so that my guilt would stop. An' 'cause of that I almost went back East an' left the love a' my life behind me."

"What 'bout Jackson?" Sam questions, wondering how she could qualify Dean as the love of her life over Jackson.

"I still love him in my own way but every person's different," she explains how she sees things. "My life wit Jackson was very different from wit Dean. Jackson an' me, we were inexperienced an' hopeful. Wit Dean… I already been through a lot a' things in my life. I was older an' wiser. I been through a marriage an' a love before… an' even if I denied it I think I loved Dean very quickly after I arrived here. It was fast, faster than I was ready for or could handle, but I knew deep in me. He was meant fer me."

Sam nods as he listens.

"So ya need ta tell me… how ya feel when ya wit Louise, besides guilty?"

"Oh, I know I love yer sister, Ellie," Sam assures her, gripping her hands harder. "That ain't no question. Every time I look at her… when I don't see Jessica, that is… I just, I don't know. I feel real good in a way I can't say right. Louise is… she pushes me an' I don't hate it. An' I can be me 'round her. And I feel like I can live when I'm 'round her too. That's a real good feelin'."

Ellie smiles. If she doubted Sam's love for her sister before then she doesn't anymore. He clearly has it bad. "But ya feel guilt too?"

"Yeah. I don't wanna let Jessica… down, I guess."

"Ya think she'd want ya ta be alone fer yer whole life?"

"No. Oh, most certainly no…."

"Then I bet she wouldn't want ya ta be so guilty neither," Ellie says to him. "An' I remember a time when we done had this conversation 'cept it was you tellin' me to cut that guilt loose."

Sam smiles lightly, recalling that conversation after he found her crying in her room. "It's much harder ta follow that advice when it's me in the predicament."

"Sure is," Ellie laughs a little and pats Sam's face lightly twice before pressing her palm to his cheek. "You are a wonderful man, Samuel Winchester. Ya deserve a good life wit no guilt. My sister will give that to ya but ya gotta let her. Ya just keep Jessica in yer good memories an' it all will be alright. I promise. I been there."

Sam actually fully smiles. "Yer a good friend, Ellie."

"Only ta good people," she laughs a little and sits onto the grass next to him, her legs tucked under her as she looks to the east. "Sunrise. It's so pretty out here."

"It is," Sam agrees and silently they both sit and watch the colors paint the new sky, relaxed and enjoying the company of someone who knows their situation. It's comforting and wonderful to have that companionship when they need it the most. "Used ta watch sunrise out here wit Jessica when Bobby'd let her come stay fer a day or two."

"See now, that's a lovely memory," Ellie says, moving over to sit closer to Sam and lean her side into him. He pulls an arm around her shoulder. "An' nothin' can take that away. It's yers, always."

"Sure is," Sam says sadly, looking out at the colors changing constantly.

"An' you'll make new memories too, ones wit Louise, an' they'll be lovely too." They lock eyes. "Just let her go, Sam. Let Jessica go an' be happy. Never forget her… but let what happened go. God needed her. She's wit the angels now an' she's lookin' down on ya. She's happy fer ya."

Sam huffs a disbelieving laugh but despite not really having the faith she does he admits, "That's a nice thought."

Ellie just laughs at him for being so stubborn about his faith and instead leans her head onto Sam's shoulder. "Maybe ya should write a poem 'bout her… in that journal I gave ya."

"I tried. I ain't not good at it," Sam chuckles quietly.

"I'm sure ya are… and I would know that as true if ya handn't stolen that poem ya wrote me when I was 'bout to leave," she tells him and gives him an evil eye.

"It wasn't no good." His cheeks are nearly crimson.

"I bet that ain't true." She swats his knee.

"It's very true, Miss Ellie," he jokes a little, feeling better already. "If'n ya were stayin' here I couldn't stand ya havin' read it."

"Ya ain't never lettin' me read that, are ya?"

"I burnt it up," Sam admits.

"Ya muggings!" she calls him as she sits up tall and upset.

"I'll make ya a new one," Sam tries to placate her.

"Ya best be doin' that, no fibbin'!" Lizzy points at him accusingly.

"I'll do it. I vow it."

"Well, alright then," Lizzy tells him, settling back by his side just as the sun can be seen over the edge of the property. They sit silently in the quiet morning before the rest of their family wakes and the new day truly begins.


	36. The Promise of the West (Part 15)

**June, 1869**

"How is it so dang hot out already?" Ellie complains as she walks towards Dean behind their house, the one he had built for them over the course of the last year. It's bigger than the old farm house, three bedrooms all on the top floor and an open bottom floor with plenty of space.

"It's June, darling," Dean smiles at her, dumping the last pail of water into the big, metal tub. "That's how."

"I don't like it much. Makes me uncomfortable," she admits, her rob wrapped tightly around her and barely fitting. She has a hand pressed to her lower back.

"Ya hurtin' again?" Dean asks with concern in the later hours of the day. After working the fields with Sam all day he's always overly concerned about her. He wasn't around to check on her and make sure she was alright.

"I'm hurtin' always these days," she huffs a slight laugh as he walks over to her. "But we comin' to an end ta that soon, ain't we?" She smiles brilliantly.

"Yessum, ma'am… we are," Dean grins wide and kisses her, his hands on either side of her pregnant stomach with his equal excitement. "Just another month's time."

"Thank the good Lord," Ellie giggles, kissing him again. "I swear, it feels hotter 'an it really is every day."

"That baby's makin' ya heat right on up," Dean reminds her, kissing her cheek. "Let's get ya cooled off, huh?"

"Yes please," she grins with complete love as her husband takes the edges of the robe, opening it up slowly as his eyes never leave her form while it's revealed to him.

Now, Ellie's been nothing but uncomfortable for a while now. The back aches, the sometimes nausea, the always there exhaustion, and the overall discomfort of being so big and barely mobile these days have made her ready to lose her mind. But Dean's been there every step of the way. He's made supper on nights that she fell asleep even if he'd worked on the fields all day. He'd be quick to rub her feet if they swelled up and every opportunity he finds to make her more comfortable, like right now, he's taken.

And he's been highly turned on by her ever growing form. Ellie wasn't prepared for that. With all the changes, some very much unappealing in her eyes, Dean's been more and more likely to try and touch her. He's adoring her more every second.

"Stop," Ellie says without any real punch as he lowers her robe to the grass, leaving her stark naked in their lawn.

"I can't help it, El. Ya ain't never been so pretty." He kisses her again before taking her hand.

"I don't feel none too pretty," she admits, letting him walk her to the tub. It wasn't a wash up day but he knew she'd be overheating. Cold water right from the well has always seemed to get her more comfortable, especially in the oppressive heat of early June, so he filled their tub up anyways.

"Well, my eyes ain't complainin'. Easy now," Dean tells her, helping her step over the edge. She gets in and eases herself down slowly, getting comfortable at her own pace. "Ya alright?"

"Mm," Ellie hums with relieve as she leans back into the tub wall with her eyes closed. "I'm much better now, darlin'. Thank ya."

Smiling to see her at least a little more comfortable, Dean gets to work. He undresses fast as she lounges in the cool water, needing to join her as quickly as he can.

"I know what ya doin'," she informs him, hearing the rustling of clothes as she keeps her eyes shut.

"Oh, ya don't mind," Dean brushes off and kicks his boots a few feet away in his haste.

"No, I don't," she grins sweetly.

After a minute Ellie can feel Dean's hands gently pushing her back forward. She scoots up and makes room, Dean stepping in behind her. Once he sits down he pulls her close until she's sitting between his legs with her back against his front, his arms around her shoulders.

After about a minute of relaxing silently Ellie sighs. "This is nice."

"It is," Dean says easily, kissing her neck once before hugging her tight.

"Won't be so quiet once our little girl gets here."

"Ya mean our boy?" Dean corrects, having his own feeling about what their child is.

"No… I mean our girl," Ellie laughs, having hoped for a girl. She just can't help but feel like Dean being the father of a little girl would be just precious. "Though I still stand by it… either way I'mma be a happy momma."

"Yeah," Dean smiles slightly as he looks out over the land, the light dimming as the sun starts to lower enough. "Don't matter, do it?"

"Not one bit," she agrees, leaning her head into his cheek. "Are ya scared?"

"Why would ya ask that?"

"I just know… lots 'a men get scared 'a becoming fathers. Just thought maybe yer a little scared."

"I ain't scared," Dean assures her, his hands running along her swelling stomach. "Nervous, yes ma'am. But I ain't scared."

"Good," Ellie answers, shifting her weight a little where she sits.

"Ya okay?" he wonders.

"Relax, dear," she says to the always worried man.

"I ain't gonna relax 'til I die now… an' certainly not 'til yer done having that baby an' ya both alright," he laughs a little at her suggestion. "Are you scared?"

"'Bout bein' a mother?" Ellie questions.

"I know ya ain't scared 'a that," Dean laughs a little at the very idea. "I mean… are ya scared 'a _havin'_ our baby?"

She gets really quiet for a moment. Giving birth out west is much different than the east. There are hospitals and knowledgeable doctors at home… and the west gives none of those comforts.

"Ya scared, ain't ya?" Dean asks again, wanting to get a real answer from her.

"It ain't gonna be easy," she says. "And I ain't goin' inta it blind…. I guess... yes, I'm scared."

"I don't want ya ta be," Dean says, his own worries lying just under the surface of his calm exterior. He's been worried about this since they first started looking into what child birth entails when she knew she was with child.

"Can't help that," Ellie admits, her hands coming down onto his as they rest on her stomach. "I feel better wit Ellen helpin' out but… it ain't gonna be easy."

"Ya tough," Dean reminds her. "Ain't no gals out there tougher 'an you. Ya know that."

Ellie just nods as she gets a little lump in her throat with the fear of it all. "I think 'bout it, what could happen…."

"Don't do that."

"Just please… Dean won't ya please listen ta what I gotta say?" she asks, turning to look right at him. He nods and lets her have her moment. "There is so much that could go wrong that I want ta say some things."

"Go ahead," he tells her, gripping hard to her hands.

"If… if I don't make it… an' don't say I definitely will 'cause ya don't know that… if I don't then ya gotta promise me ya ain't gonna live all miserable here by yerself. I don't want that ta happen ta ya."

He wrinkles his brow and looks off in the distance, hating this conversation.

"It happens a lot out here, mothers not makin' it. So if I don't ya lean on Sam an' Louise. Ya fight that sorrow an' ya raise our girl ta be a lovely young lady."

"Boy," Dean corrects with a tightly clenched jaw.

"Either way, ya raise our child right an' ya be the good father I know ya can be."

"Don't wanna talk 'bout this, El," Dean shakes his head and refuses to look at her.

"I know," she says calmly, aware that this idea is crushing him. "But it's real."

Dean says nothing for a moment as she sits there with the sad reality of their situation.

"Miss Ellen's gonna get ya through this," Dean says with certainty. "Ellie, ya gotta trust that."

"I have a lotta faith in her," Ellie nods. "I think it best… especially wit Doc Robert's record."

"It ain't grand," Dean admits, knowing the doctor hasn't been all that highly successful with delivering babies and keeping mother and child alive.

"An' Ellen's done this five times wit other women plus three times herself."

"She got weird ideas..." Dean comments.

"I think she's smart," Ellie rebuts. "Keeping clean hands an' a clean house sounds just simple enough ta work."

"Yeah…. Maybe," Dean comments, thinking something so simple can't be the miracle answer to childbirth.

"Well, it certainly can't hurt."

Dean nods.

"What I'm most scared of ain't my death though," Ellie admits to him.

And Dean knows exactly what that means.

"That child in there is a Winchester," Dean reminds her. "If'n that little one ain't makin' it out alive an' well then ain't no baby ever gonna."

"I hope yer right," Ellie comments, tearing up a bit. "'Cause I know I ain't gonna make it through that. I know it happens all the time but… Dean, darlin', I'm already in love. I can't lose this baby."

"Then don't ya worry 'bout it so much," Dean tries his best to keep the brighter side on her mind just like they've managed for eight months so far. "That baby is gonna be just fine. And it's gonna be healthy an' happy… an' gonna be beautiful just like its momma. Ya don't worry 'bout nothin' else."

Ellie nods and sniffles and a silent tear falls, her true worries just being about the safety of her unborn child. Right then, after Dean's comforting words stating that their baby will be well, their child starts to move.

"Dean," she says with excitement, moving his hands to her right side.

"See," he says to her, smiling once more as he can feel their little one moving about. "That baby knows ya worried an' wants ya ta stop. He's tellin' ya it'll be mighty fine, El. Ya listen ta him."

"Her," Ellie corrects, sniffling again. "Oh, Dean, I just love her… him… so much."

"And this here child love ya too, momma," he says lightly. "Ya stop worryin' now."

She nods and leans hard into him, letting them relax in the hot summer afternoon as they both feel their child moving about, near ready to make its appearance in their family. She pushes her mind to accept that everything will be alright, despite her nagging fears deep down, and returns to enjoying the excitement of what is to come. She's going to be a mother. She's always just wanted to be a mom since being a child. And it's coming true.

After a time outside, soaking in the cooled water and speaking of lighter, more hopeful things, Dean looks down at her.

"I'm shrivelin' up," he tells her, lifting a hand out of the water to show the pruned skin of his fingers. "Time fer supper?"

"I'm famished!" Ellie says with wide eyes, looking forward to eating.

"When ain't ya," Dean laughs, sliding out from behind her. He gets out, dries himself a bit, and reaches for her hand. She gets out of the tub carefully and he wraps her up in her robe, one of the few items she has that still fits.

"I'mma make somethin' quick but I already got a coffee cake done fer dessert. Had extra flour."

Dean grins wide at her and kisses her, knowing she did that just for him. "I'mma get dressed."

"Alright," Ellie nods and she watches him run off into the house bare-assed. She laughs a bit when he clicks his heels together in a little jump before disappearing. He's silly sometimes, something she just simply adores of him. She places her hands on her stomach and giggles. "Deary, ya daddy got a screw loose."

Bending down with a little difficulty, she gathers his clothing in her arms to bring inside and add to the growing pile. She needs to do laundry tomorrow.

Walking to the house she stops when she can hear a piercingly loud sound, high in pitch and annoying as hell, start up. She turns around to find the source but she's alone. The sound gets louder, making her drop Dean's clothes to cover her ears.

A bright, brilliant blue light fills the sky directly above her, creating a circle of pure blue and white luminescence around her, and when she looks up she's dumbfounded. She's never seen anything like it before, the swirling light and the breeze around her it causes.

_Elizabeth._

She pulls her hands away from her ears when the high pitch ends and she can hear a voice calling out to her. Her voice fails when she tries to respond as she doesn't know what to do. She's terrified.

_Elizabeth, can you hear me?_

Her jaw drops and she huffs a couple hard breaths, her voice still paralyzed.

_Elizabeth._

"Y-y-yes," Ellie finally gets out when she can. "Wh-who… who are you?"

_I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord. _

Shaking with extreme fear, Ellie inhales hard.

_I am here to deliver a message to you from my Father._

"Oh my… word…." She shakily whispers to herself, looking up at the light. "Wha-what is it?"

_You are favored in the eyes of God. He has chosen you among the many women. _

"Oh my… word," Ellie whispers out again when she's in shock.

_You have found favor with God so do not be afraid. You are to be the mother of a very great son. He is to be named Judah. He is the son of the Most High._

"Are you the angel that saved me?" Ellie suddenly asks, a recognition somehow there within her. "When I was sick?"

_I am. You are to be watched over. You are important._

"Why?" she asks.

_You are a woman of true faith. You are the daughter of the Sons of God and Daughters of Men. You are to birth the Son of God and his kingdom will have no end. Judah will bring the light and love to all humanity that believes._

"Judah?"

_That shall be his name and he shall bring the Lord._

"I will do this," Ellie says with a brilliant smile, her shaking calming as she grows comfortable and happy with this all. She understands what she is being asked to do. "Castiel, I will let the Lord use me for this purpose."

_You will do well in this, Elizabeth. It was always to be you. And it was always to be Dean. This is what God has wanted._

"I want that also," Ellie grins wide, her religious stance making her proud to do such a massive thing.

_Rejoice. For in God all things are possible. Praise be to Him._

The light disappears and in an instant the yard is calm and quiet, as if nothing has happened.

"My word," Ellie whispers out, looking down at her stomach with a bright smile.

"Whacha doin' out here?" Dean asks as he marches out of the house, buttoning up his shirt. He knows he heard her talking to herself in the yard.

"The Lord done smiled on us, darlin'," Ellie tells him, looking to Dean with a bright grin as her hands press to her large stomach.

"'A course he did," Dean grins wide, walking over to her and placing his hands over hers. "We're havin' a boy, ain't we?"

She just smiles at him and kisses his lips. She doesn't explain what just happened and instead decides it's best to keep this exciting news to herself. Dean wouldn't understand. He isn't religious like she is. He only goes to mass to make her happy and she knows that. Ellie appreciates that more than she can explain but knowing their boy is the son of God would not go over well with Dean. So… she stays quiet. At least for now.

Dean looks at her funny after she ends the kiss. "Ya ain't gonna tell me it's a girl an' that I'm wrong?"

She grins and cups his face, pulling him down to her for one more kiss. She then tells him, "Nah. I think ya been right all along. It's a boy."

* * *

**July 1869**

It's quiet. That's what scares him the most. How quiet it is.

He's been anxious since she told him it was time. The look of excitement and a little fear in her wide, dark eyes melted him when she said it. _It's time, darlin'_. Their lives are about to change.

But now he's just plain frightened as he paces the floor of the second story hallway in Ellen's inn. They came here so that Ellen could be the one to bring their little boy into the world. She was trusted and her track record was very good. Ellie picked her specifically and Dean trusted her too.

But it's so quiet now.

Inside the room he has no idea what's happening. He's not to be in there right now, he knows that, but he's losing his mind with wonder. Just moments ago Ellie was screaming like a banshee, the pain she was in must have been terrible.

And now, she's completely quiet.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

_Ellie… Ellie, dear, ya stay wit me!_

The voice is so far off she can barely hear it. Ellie was pushing just moments ago, doing all she could as she prepared to bring her son and the son of God into the world. She was so excited, so ready for this task… but now she's just tired.

Her pale face turns to the side when she feels a presence there in the room of the inn, one that wasn't there just moments ago. She can't explain why she knows it's there… but it's there.

When she sees him she's surprised. A man, tall and lean and staring with a serious expression. Why would James Novak, the farmer from a couple lands over from her own, be in her room right now?

"Elizabeth," he says her name clear as day, his voice crystal and sharp if not low and gravelly. She blinks slowly a few times, feeling weaker by the minute.

_She bleedin' a whole lot! Call fer Doc Robert! He's just next door!_

"It's your time, Elizabeth," the dark haired, blue eyed man says to her with calm certainty, his hand extended to her despite the chaos of the room around her. "Take my hand."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

The commotion makes Dean's stomach churn. He can hear Ellen panic, her voice alarmed and frightened as she calls for Doctor Robert.

This isn't right.

And then he can hear the sound of a little, tiny voice crying, the voice strong despite its small source. His heart soars for a split second, knowing that sound is of his child, but the commotion continues and his heart plummets with what that could mean.

"Ellie?" Dean whisper with fear, looking at the door separating him and his wife. He can't handle this. It's not proper at all but he has to know. Dean reaches for the door knob, turns, and pulls it open.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"My boy," Ellie very quietly says, remembering through the hazy cloud of sleepy weakness that's overcoming her. This man in front of her, the one that shouldn't be there yet makes her happy and warm to be in his presence, continues to reach a hand out to her. "But my Judah…."

"He is well, Elizabeth. Very well. You have done your job," James Novak promises. "Do you remember me?"

Ellie looks slowly across the room, everything in slow motion. She can make out the form of Ellen holding and checking over a bundled up little thing while the fear in her face is obvious. She watches Ellen point to the door as it opens, Jo rushing for it and pushing the form of a man out of the way.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Dang it!" Dean yells when Jo almost bowls him over.

"Move!" Jo shouts and pushes past him in a full panic. Dean watches her run before turning back to look inside the room, the horror show on full display as reality crashes down on him hard and without an ounce of sympathy.

"Ellie?" he asks with shock, the blood everywhere. "Oh… no. No, no, no…."

"Dean," Ellie smiles weakly, her head dropped back heavily when she can hear his voice. But he sounds so scared.

"Elizabeth? Do you? Remember me?" she hears the soft and soothing voice of James ask again. When she turns to look at her neighbor that shoudn't be there, her vision blurring and slow, she can see the shadow of folded in wings, big and black and quite beautiful, coming from his back. She smiles some lightly.

"Ya my angel," she says to him, her mind slipping away.

"Ellie! Ellie, darlin'!?"

She can hear Dean but she can't look away from the angel in the room.

"I'm here to take you home," the angel tells her, stepping closer. "You're needed at home."

"El, ya fine," Dean says to her desperately. She can feel his hands on her face, turning her to look at him in the eyes. They meet. His green irises aren't lit up in their usual way. Instead he looks terrified. "It's gonna be fine. Ya hang in there, sweetheart. Ya try an' hang in there fer me, alright?"

"I… I love ya," she says, the words heavy on her tongue as she tries to speak clearly through the haze.

"Oh, Ellie, I love ya too…."

When she grins softly she understands. She wasn't meant to be on Earth any longer. She did what God needed her to do, her child is safe and in the world. Now she's needed elsewhere. That's why the angel is here right now.

Her head turns back to the angel and she looks at his smiling face. She speaks to Dean while agreeing with the angel silently, the angel she knows can't be seen by anyone else in the room. "I'mma go now, Dean."

"What!? Ya losin' it, El. Ya ain't goin' nowhere, ya hear!?"

"Ya take care a' our boy," she says, knowing it's a son she's just had. Her hand weakly reaches out to the angel, the one she knows deep down is Castiel. "An' I'll see ya… again someday…."

"Ellie, no!" Dean says to her, rushing to the other side of her bed she's bleeding out on. Her pale, pallid skin is clammy and sheet-white and he's certainly not losing her right now. "No! Ya ain't doin' this ta me!"

Ellie reaches for Castiel's hand, the angel reaching for her also, but Dean's form comes into view, blocking them unknowingly. He grabs her hand instead and brings it to his cheek, making sure she focuses on him.

"Ellie, please don't do this ta me," he asks desperately of her, eyes water-rimmed and frightened. "I ain't never been good wit kids. Ya need ta be there for our boy. Ya ain't even met him."

"Is he beautiful?" she asks him, her voice happy yet nearly gone now.

"He is," Dean nods, eyes overflowing now as tears trail their way done his cheek and onto her palm that he presses harder into his face. "An' he need ya, Ellie. He needs his momma. Please don't leave him like this. Please… don't leave _me_ like this."

She can faintly hear people rushing into the room, the voice of a man she believes she remembers from when she was sick a few years ago. Doctor Robert. But her eyes never leave Dean's, his face just so beautiful to her and so pained right now.

A brilliant white light starts to glow behind him, the white pure and gorgeous, the magnetism of it pulling her towards it. It feels good and safe… and she wants to go towards it.

"I'mma go…."

"No!" Dean denies her, ignoring the fact that there's a newborn child wailing loudly in the room and a very frantic Doctor Robert and Ellen working quickly and loudly on stopping the profuse bleeding before it takes Ellie away for good. He just presses her nearly limp hand into his stubbled jaw harder and begs her. "No! Ellie, I ain't had ya long enough. Ya stop saying ya leavin' me 'cause ya can't do that. Please, darlin'. Ya stay wit me! _Please_!"

A hand appears through the light. She can hear Castiel make his last effort on her.

_Come with me, sister. Rest in the field of the Lord and be peaceful._

"Please, Ellie," Dean now whispers out as if speaking to just himself at this point. "I love ya. Please. I can't do this without ya."

The pull of the calm, beautiful light along with the promise of peace suddenly doesn't sound so wonderful. With the sound of the crying, small infant in her ear along with the quiet crying of her truly beloved husband, Ellie makes a very difficult decision.

"I wanna… stay," Ellie barely gets out, her voice drifting off. "Castiel… I wanna… stay…."

"Who ya talkin' to?" Dean asks. "Just stay wit me, darlin'…."

She starts to slip under the pull of sleepiness as there is a pause. It feels long and drawn out despite being just a mere few second. The light dims as she can hear Castiel's voice depart.

_As my Elizabeth wishes. Be good, sister._

At that moment she slides into the blackness as she has no other choice.

* * *

**August 1869**

"Ellie?"

The voice is soft and warm, like a thick, cozy blanket on a cold night. She smiles before opening her eyes because she knows exactly what she'll see when she does and it's a beautiful sight.

Lids lifting slowly once the sound of her name on his lips pulls her from a deep sleep, she sees she was right. Her grin brightens as Dean stands there at the side of her bed, the small bundled up form of their son in his arms.

"Someone's getting angry 'cause he's hungry again," Dean smiles lightly while taking a seat next to her on the mattress of the bed she slept in for the year she worked for him.

After almost losing her, the day their son was born being the most frightening thing in his life, Ellie's recovery has been slow. She's still so weak, barely able to move about most days, and while Dean needs to work the fields like always to make sure their income continues on, her sister Louise has been watching over her. Therefore, the entire family is back under the small farmhouse roof just like before Dean finished building their own on the other side of the property.

"My men," Ellie grins happily despite being tired still, the many feedings per day draining her energy. She shifts to sit up while hearing the soft sounds of her little boy's fussing. He'll be crying in no time and since the rest of the house is quiet before dawn she moves as quickly as she can. No need to once more wake the house. "He's always hungry, this one."

"He's like his daddy," Dean flashes his million watt smile at her as she moves her clothing around to feed their boy. Watching her face closely, her dark circles under her eyes and her long, exhausted face making her seem older than she is, Dean's heart swells despite it. She's still here. She never left him and he knows that without her he could never have handled this life. He just loves her so damn much.

"He's handsome like his daddy too," she smirks a little and reaches out for her boy. Dean gently hands him over, making sure she has enough strength to hold him confidently. She's been recovering so slowly that he should be more concerned but he isn't. She's here. That's what matters.

"Then lucky him," Dean huffs a laugh as Ellie gets the baby going. Once he's latched on and set, she leans back and sighs, eyes closed. "Ya tired, El?"

"Yessum… but I'm always tired these days," she tries to lighten it up like always. Even with her health as dismal as it is and being confined to her bed most hours of the day she remains happily optimistic.

But her words pain Dean. He hates how sickly she is. It's unfair. This woman has always be big and bold and energetic. Her presence in his life has been soul lifting. Yet here she is, cut down by her difficult birthing and almost killed by it. She's not the same.

But she's here. It's his new mantra.

"I'm mighty sorry this happened, Ellie," Dean laments as he looks at her with sad eyes, his hand raking lightly through her hair.

"Don't ya get all mushy on me, Dean Winchester," she says with still closed eyes. "I'mma be fine. Just been through the muck a bit is all."

"Ya been through more 'an that," Dean reminds her, Ellie lifting her heavy lids to look at him. "I'm just happy ya such a fighter. Don't know how I'd do all this without ya."

"Ya doin' it without me already," she laughs lightly, her form slack with lack of strength. "I can't barely git up off this bed as is. Ya have ta do so much… it ain't right."

"It's fine, Ellie," Dean promises as he cups the side of her face. "I'm just happy ya wit me. The rest is… nothin' important."

For about the millionth time since her boy was born Ellie's eye well up with his words.

"Aw, don't ya go cryin' on me. _Again_," he laughs kindly at her display.

"Ya so sweet," she cries out and sniffle once. "What'd I do ta deserve ya?"

He leans in and kisses her lips lightly once. "Ya gave me a son. Ya deserve everythin' fer that."

And Ellie just hangs her head and cries some more, all the while Dean smirks and lets her go. She's been an emotional mess since having their boy, something that he's told is normal for many women.

"I love you men so much," Ellie huffs through her sobs as she watches the face of her little one as he eats.

"We love ya too, darlin'," Dean promises as he stands up. "Lemme fix ya somethin' ta eat while yer up."

"Thank ya," Ellie tells him, still hating that he has to do everything for her that she should be doing for him.

Dean grins and leans down, kissing her cheek before leaving the room.

Ellie sighs heavily, so in love with her boy as she watches him. She could never get enough of this right here. She doesn't remember much from his birth but she remembers enough to know it was scary, very scary. But she'd go through it all again if she had to. Her family is worth it.

"How are you feeling?"

Lizzy's eyes whip over towards the sudden sound of the low, rough voice. She finds James Novak in her room, sitting with his posture ridged in the rocking chair Dean has spent most of his time in since their son came into the world.

"Mister Novak?" she questions but he just looks at her blankly, letting her know she's wrong. "Castiel?" she tries again.

"It is me," he tells her simply. "How are you?"

She smiles at him. "I'm happy."

"You do not regret your decision then?" he asks, eyes narrowing.

"My... my decision?" she asks, confused.

"I see you've forgotten," he says to her. Quickly he stands up and takes the couple steps to her bedside. He presses two fingers to her forehead and like lightning it hits her.

The day of her son's birth comes flying back. She almost died. Castiel was there. He tried to take her to Heaven with him, let her die and rest, but she refused. She couldn't leave her son. She couldn't leave her Dean. Not yet.

"Now I ask again," Castiel says, pulling the wide-brimmed hat off of his head so that his blue eyes aren't shaded any longer. "Do you regret your decision?"

"No," she says immediately. "Never. I ain't never gonna regret that."

"It is not how it was to be," Castiel warns her. "Dean was to raise this child on his own. They were to be close because of it and they would be bonded."

"An' they still will be," she tells him with certainty. "But I ain't leavin' them. Not yet."

He cocks his head to the side. "You are a stubborn woman."

"Ya ain't seen nothin'," she promises him, looking down at her son and running her light fingertips over his bald head. "This here is my family. I love my family more an' anything."

"More than our Father?" he questions.

"Ya mean God?" she questions up at him as he stays standing by her bed.

"Yes."

"Yes," she nods. "I love my God because He's good and He let me stay wit my family. But I love my family over everythin' else."

Surprising her, Castiel smiles at that. He lets his grin disappear quickly. "I have watched over you for a very long time, Elizabeth. I've known you longer than most have. You were not to live through the birth of the Second Coming."

"Why not?" Ellie asks, her heart dropping and eyes wide.

He sighs. "Our Father works in mysterious ways. But… I couldn't let you miss this. I could not bear to take you away from him." He nods his head at the boy. "Judah will need you. So will… Dean." He nods his head out the door to where her husband stands over the stove, firing it up to make her food before working the fields all day.

"They're the most important men in my life."

Castiel softens and smiles again. "Elizabeth, I am sorry for the condition this has left you in."

"I'm here. It don't matter," she says to him with confidence. "An' I plan on getting' better wit time so it'll be alright."

"You are wrong," Castiel sadly tells her.

Ellie's face drops. "What'd ya mean?"

"I mean to say that you will never fully recover from the ordeal you've been through," Castiel explains plainly.

"Why not?" she wonders, fearful at this.

He sighs. "To put it in ways that you will comprehend, the time in which you live does not have the technological advancements needed to fully recover your failing health."

She just stares at him blankly.

"There are no doctors able to help heal you fully," he clarifies.

"But… ya helped me when I was sick before," Ellie hopes. "Can't ya do it again? So I can be a good mother ta my boy?"

The regretful look on his face already gives the answer away. "I cannot heal you like I would be more than happy to do for you. If I could you'd already be back in good health."

"Oh," her heart sinks, sad with the news that she'll never be young and bright and lively for her child. "I… I don't understand."

"You were to die, Elizabeth," Castiel explains himself. "God had it planned for you to die. I went against that. I let you live. For that I am being punished."

"How?"

"My powers are… limited now."

Her brow wrinkles. "All on account 'a me?"

Castiel gives her the first real, genuine smile he's had yet. "For you, Elizabeth? I'd be quite willing to do a whole lot."

She smiles lightly back, the words very touching. "So God is mad 'atcha?"

"He is not pleased," Castiel tries to keep it light. "But that is fine with me. I shall be fine." He looks out at Dean in the kitchen area. "I must go now."

"Why?" she wonders. "Stay. Meet Dean…."

"No, I think it's best I do not do that," Castiel lets her know, his being in communications with one human bad enough. "Rest well. You will get better… just not to the point you wish for. But keep your faith. And I'll always be near."

"Ellie?"

She looks over to the doorway to see Dean standing there with a bowl in his hand, his summer work clothes already on as the first light of dawn starts to warm up his form through the one window in the room. Her heart floods with emotion for this man in the moment. She made the right choice, even if she'll never be the same.

"Who ya talkin' to?" Dean asks her.

Ellie looks to the side of her bed but the space is empty. Castiel is gone.

Turning back to him, she smiles at Dean. "Ta our boy." She once more lies.

He laughs at her as he walks back to his spot sitting on the edge of the bed. "He ain't gonna answer ya. Not yet."

"It's alright," he answers, brushing her thumb over her boy's cheek as they both look at him. "I hope he take his time. Don't want him growin' up too fast."

Dean watches her face, the expression on it soft and so filled with love that he can't take his eyes off of her. Ever since she had their boy Ellie's been sick and weak, yes, but despite the pale skin and the hollow features Dean's never thought she's looked better. His wife is gorgeous like this, being the mother she always wanted to be. She's been so giving and just so perfect that he couldn't care how it went down. They're all there, they're a family, and he loves his gal more than he ever has before.

Dean moves a strand of matted hair off her face and behind her ear. She looks to him with her bright brown eyes and smiles.

"I don't know what I woulda done without ya," Dean admits to her, still shaken by the almost loss of her. "Ya my everythin', El."

"I love ya too," she warmly grins and reaches to him, pulling him closer by the back of the neck and kissing him seriously. Even if life isn't turning out how she'd hoped she just couldn't be happier.

* * *

**Note: Thank you to everyone that was kind enough to leave me messages of such kindness and love. You guys are the best! I can't tell you how appreciated it all was. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!**


	37. The Promise of the West (Part 16)

**October 1876**

He can't believe this is happening. This cannot be happening.

All the promise of their marriage, the excitement of a new life, of their family. The love they shared for their little boy and the house they lived every day in together happily for eight years. The mornings with breakfast as a small group, the weekends outside with Sam, Louise and their three girls, and the nights watching their son sleeping peacefully in his bed were all that he's ever needed to truly enjoy life…

And it's gone in the blink of an eye… along with his wife.

Ever since he almost lost her when she birthed Judah, Ellie's been weak and not the same. She never regained her former energy and solid health from before. She remained in bed some days, unable to gather herself enough to function like any normal person would, and it was so hard on him to watch. But he was happy because she was with them. All he's ever needed was his family because without them Dean was a poor man with nothing important to his name despite his sprawling, quite profitable farm. Dean's always measure his wealth by the people in it.

And without Ellie… he's dirt poor. How is he supposed to carry on without her?

Dean doesn't hear the local preacher speak as his blurry eyes witness the pine box getting lowered into the ground on the outskirts of their property. He doesn't even hear the voices of the few locals that traveled to the property to bid her farewell and wish their best on his son and him as the dirt is shoveled back over her, kind words from friends not at all helping the sharp pain in his soul.

But it's over. He watches as Sam and a few other men, including their neighbor James Novak that Dean wasn't even aware knew Ellie, shovel dirt over her grave. He can hear Louise sobbing as her girls cling to her skirt, all three of them under the age of five and not fully understanding the loss of their very much loved aunt.

Numbly, Dean looks down at his son as he stands still by his side, holding his hand tightly. The boy has a bright yellow rose in his hand, one he picked from Ellie's favorite rose bush on the side of the their house as they walked out to her favorite shaded spot on their farm to say goodbye to his mother, and Dean realizes he forgot to tell him to place it with her.

"Stop," Dean says, his voice barely audible through the sorrow, and he clears his throat. "Wait! Please?"

Sam, James, and Bobby all stop what they're doing and look to him.

"Just… wait a tick," he vaguely explains. He then crouches down to the grass and looks at his spitting image, the boy seven years old and healthy as can be. "Ya wanna leave that fer momma?"

Judah hasn't spoken once all day, his face long and with wet cheeks at all times. He just nods and lets go of Dean's hand. He walks to the edge of the open grave, only a thin layer of dirt over the pine box at this point. Looking in Judah takes a shaky breath and drops the flower in. It hits the dirt and lays there feet below him and out of reach… just like his mother.

"I love ya, momma," he says in his young voice, it barely squeaking out. He then turns sharply around and rushes to his father, slamming into him.

Hugging his boy tightly, both fall into sobs, the rest of the onlookers be damned.

They lost their everything that day and, even if Judah is only seven, he fully understands. He'll never see her again. Neither of them know how to deal with that.

* * *

She's been gone a week. Dean's been unable to function for a week.

Sam looks out from the back door of his farmhouse to see Dean already out there, sitting against the large tree on their property and looking out at the sunrise silently, spending the morning with the love of his life where she lies.

"He ain't gonna work again today," Sam says sadly to Louise as she joins him by the door.

"I don't blame him one bit," Louise answers back, barely able to live her life herself.

"Nah… I don't neither," Sam admits, his face full of worry as he watches his big brother, the pain he's feeling shared by Sam. "Don't know what ta do 'bout him."

"Ya don't do anythin'," Louise tells him sadly, walking to the stove to start breakfast for her girls. If it weren't for her children that need her to do her duties everyday she's sure she's be the very mess Dean has been.

"He can't just sit there every day," Sam says.

"Don't ya rush him!" she says angrily out of nowhere, having lost her patience over nothing several times over the week. "He… he ain't gonna… Dean just…." She gets flustered and choked up and Sam turns to look at his wife. He just catches her cover her face and start to sob. "It hurts. So much."

Seeing her collapse, this being far from the first time she's done so since losing her sister, Sam walks right for her and wraps her up in a tight hug. This has been so hard on his wife, Ellie having been her very best friend.

"It ain't right," Louise cries. "They don't deserve this."

"Neither do you," Sam tells her, letting her have a second to mourn. He remembers the feeling of losing Jessica still. It felt impossible most days. He didn't know how to simply live and get by at points. But he moved on. He eventually found his way again once Louise was there.

But Sam never loved Jessica as much as he knows Dean loves Ellie. Their bond was so strong it was almost unbelievable… and how does one move on from that?

Standing silently for a few moments, Sam just holds her. His poor wife lost her best friend. He can't imagine losing Dean like this, just watching him wither away over the course of several years. It's wrong.

"Momma?"

When Louise and Sam look to the bottom of the stairs they see their eldest daughter, Catherine, looking at them.

"Hi darlin'," Louise greets and wipes her face.

"Ya ok, momma?" she asks her mother, knowing things have been sad around her house for a full week.

"I'm mighty fine, dear. Why don't ya check on yer sisters an' git them goin', hm?"

"Yes, momma," Catherin says and bounds back up the stairs.

Louise returns her gaze to Sam. "Can ya go get Judah, dear? I think it best we git him fed an' ta school fer yer brother."

"I will," Sam nods and reaches for his hat hanging on the nail in the wall.

"I'll make extra breakfast, walk some out to Dean. Hopefully he'll eat somethin' this time. I'm worried 'bout that man. He gonna be but skin an' bones soon," she shakes her head and moves to the stove to get going.

Sam takes a second, looking at her. So far she's completely occupied herself with Judah, trying to give him the normalcy and mothering he deserves to still have in his life. And she's been quite concerned with the need to help Dean in any way, even through her own horrible grief. She cares so much. Sam knows he's damn lucky to have this woman in his life.

He walks to her swift and kisses her cheek. Her bright blue eyes look to him with surprise.

"I love ya," Sam tells her. "Thank ya fer bein' so good ta them."

Her face wrinkles, holding her need to cry in. She's so sick of crying. "They're family." She shrugs it away.

Sam smiles lightly and kisses her lips once before heading out of the house to make the trek to Dean's where he knows he'll find a sleeping little boy that needs to be brought to school. As he passes he keeps an eye on Dean in the distance, the man's head hung low and desperate. His heart tears in to yet more pieces every time he sees this from his brother.

"We miss ya, Ellie," he says to the air as he keeps moving, his hand in his pocket. He once more lets his fingertips slide across the parchment paper folded up neatly in it, the poem he really regrets never letting Ellie read still there. He never burned it. He lied as he was embarrassed still, not bold enough to let her read it when she could comment to his face how it was after.

Someone has to press on and keep the farm, and more importantly their family, together.

* * *

The sun is setting and Dean hasn't moved. He didn't do a lick of work today, yet again, and the dinner pail next to him that Louise placed there silently hours before remains untouched. He can't eat. He's sick to his stomach.

Another sunset without her. It feels surreal. No, her health was never good, but he wasn't ready to wake up one day to her unmoving next to him, having passed peacefully in her sleep while he was right there, holding her. He thought he had more time.

Then again, no length of time would be enough time with her, no matter how long. But still, he feels cheated.

He looks at the stone with her name on it. Elizabeth Winchester. His vision blurs for the hundredth time that day.

"I can't do this," he shakes his head before hanging it, falling once more into sobs. He watches the tears fall out of his own eyes and land in his lap, soaking into his pants. "Ellie, I ain't gonna be able ta do this. I don't wanna do this without ya."

He washes a hand down his face to wipe the tears.

"Why did ya leave me?" he asks her headstone. "Why did ya do this ta me an' ta Judah? He needs ya. I need ya. I can't do none of this without ya."

Crawling over a couple feet, Dean lays down on his side on the grass, his hand on the ground over the still loose dirt covering the woman he loved more than anything he's ever known.

"I love ya too much," he tells her. "It hurts. How'm I gonna go on when it hurt this bad? I just want ya back. I wanna have ya back…."

"Dean."

His heart stops. The voice he hears from behind him is far too familiar for him not to know exactly who it is without looking. But it's impossible. He's not supposed to ever hear that sound again.

"Dean, darlin'. Look at me."

He closes his eyes and revels in the beautiful sound of her voice calling to him. With a deep breath he sits up and turns around, coming face to face with the woman he adores.

"Ellie," he whispers her name as it gets caught in his throat. She looks beautiful, like when they first met. She's no longer rail thin and pale. She's bright, healthy, and the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

"Howdy, darlin'," she smiles warmly.

"You ain't dead?" Dean asks hopefully, not sure what's happening here.

"Oh, I'm dead," she assures calmly. "But you ain't awake."

He just looks at her funny, unsure of what's happening. "I… I fell asleep?"

She nods and then grins at him with sheer love. "Dear, what're ya doin'?"

"What'd ya mean?"

"Why ya out here on yer lonesome?" Ellie asks him, her attitude always kind and not in the least accusatory. "Why aren't ya at home?"

He can feel the sobs threatening to return. "I can't. I can't be in that house. All I see an' all I smell… it's all you. I miss ya so much…." He hangs his head and cries, unable to stop it from happening.

He sighs heavily with slight relief when he can feel her arms come around him. He buries his face in her neck and holds her tight automatically, the smell of her more comforting than anything has been for a week.

"Hush, Dean," he says soothingly, running a hand through his hair as he cries. "Ya stop it now."

"I can't," Dean cries to her. "I need ya, Ellie."

"Dean, ya done had me longer 'an ya supposed ta already. Be happy, dear."

"What's that mean?" he asks her, confused.

Ellie cups his face and looks at him. "Darlin', I wasn't supposed ta make it past our boy's birth. We were workin' wit borrowed time already. We got dang near seven extra years together an' that ain't nothin' ta cry about."

He just wrinkles his brow at that, not getting it.

"Just trust me. It makes sense," she smiles and laughs her light, airy, happy laugh that makes him close his eyes when he hears it. He absorbs the beautiful sound into his soul, never letting it go. "Yer a good man, Dean. A very good man. And I need ya ta keep bein' a good man."

Dean opens his eyes and locks into hers, taking in everything about her as he knows he's getting something special here, something no one else gets. And he somehow doesn't doubt that this is real.

"Ya go take care 'a our boy," she tells him, grinning with just the mention of her so loved son. "He's gonna need ya ta show him how ta grow up an' be a good man, just like his daddy."

"But he just makes me miss ya more," Dean explains. "I look at him an' all I think 'a is you."

"Good," she grins wider. "Then every time ya look at him an' see me you'll be reminded that I want ya ta raise him right. That's all I want. You raise him right, Dean. He needs ya."

Dean nods, getting it.

"Now, ya gonna get up off this here depressin' grave so ya can live a good life wit our little man… or ya gonna just waste away right on under this here tree?"

"I get ya," he assures her. "I ain't gonna be like my own daddy."

Ellie looks relieved. "Knew I loved ya fer a good reason."

"I just love ya so much," Dean makes sure she understands, his voice cracking with the emotional pull he feels just looking at her.

"My little boy an' you? Ya'll are always gonna be my everythin'," she promises and leans forward, kissing him.

And Dean pulls her close, needing this last chance more than anything he's ever needed. He kisses her earnestly, desperate to remember that feeling for the rest of his life. He already knows he'll never find another woman, or even try to, until he's done on Earth. No one could compare to her.

_Daddy!_

He feels Ellie end the kiss and he open his eyes, ignoring the calling voice in the far off background.

"Don't ya stay too sad," Ellie says to him.

_Daddy!_

"Ya go be the best dang daddy this world has ever seen, hm?" she grins wide, her beautiful face the last thing he sees before he wakes up.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Daddy!"

Castiel lifts his focus towards the sound of Judah's voice. He can see the little boy running full speed towards him and he knows he has to finish this up despite being hidden from Judah's eyes.

He looks down to the sleeping Dean, his two fingers pressed to his forehead as he attempts to give him the closure he needs. He watched over the family for so long and he knew how much Dean loved his wife and always will. Dean needed to properly say goodbye and he knew his Elizabeth would never be able to truly rest until she knew her son was well off without her and Dean would do his fatherly duties.

But now he has to go. Judah gets closer and he ends their moment, taking his hand back.

"You will be fine, Dean," Castiel assure and disappears into thin air.

"Daddy!"

Dean blinks awake. He's lying on his side on the grass facing her headstone, having fallen asleep he has no idea when.

"Daddy, wake up!" he hears his son's voice say and his sits up, the feeling of emptiness from now being without Ellie washing over him. When Dean turns to look at the boy running to him he's suddenly filled right back up with love.

"Judah," Dean greets and the boy plows right into him, hugging his arms around his neck. That's right. His boy. He still has his boy.

"Ya alright, daddy?" he asks while hugging his father.

"I'm alright," Dean nods and wipes his face before Judah ends the hug. "How're you, son?"

"I'm good," he says, standing in front of his father. "I miss momma."

Dean nods solemnly. "Me too, son. A whole lot. But ya know she loves ya, right? Always?"

"I know," Judah answers easily. "She tells me that every night."

"Yes she did. An' she meant it," Dean drives home.

"Auntie Louise wants ya ta come in fer supper," Judah tells him. "She says she gonna tan yer hide soon if ya ain't gonna eat."

Dean laughs a little bit, having had the chance to dream of a goodbye with his wife somehow making it all a little more manageable. "That sounds a' awful lot like Louise, don't it?"

"I think she gonna really do it if ya don't come in," Judah assures. "An' it fine if yer sad, daddy. We're all sad, Auntie Louise too."

"Well, we all loved yer momma very much," Dean explains, the pain still there but suddenly easier to handle, to the point of being able to hold back tears. He stands up and takes his son's hand. "It's hard ta lose people ya love."

"I know," Judah nods. "It makes me sad a lot."

Dean realizes then how much he's neglected his own boy. He's been so stuck in his own sorrow that he's forgotten about his boy's mourning.

"Ya wanna tell me 'bout it while we walk to Uncle Sam's house?"

Judah looks up and smiles a little. "Okay."

Dean nods. "Okay."

Before leaving, Judah walks to his mother headstone. He kisses it sweetly, just like he used to do his actual mother every night before bed. "I love ya a bunch, momma," he tells her, saying to her what she used to say to him every night while tucking him in.

Dean bites back the tears once more and takes a few very deep breaths, retaking Judah's hand. "Yer a good boy, Judah. I'm mighty proud 'a ya."

"Was momma proud 'a me too?" he asks, just looking to speak about the woman he misses so much.

"Like the dickens," Dean assures and they start their walk to Sam's house.

* * *

**August 1888**

With a heavy sigh, Judah wipes his brow on his sleeve and drops his sickle. He's been at it for hours, the harvest time here and the wheat ready to be cut down and brought to the mill. He had another three men he hired to help, all of them from the town and all of them down on their luck and looking for a helping hand. He always felt bad for people like that, especially once he got his father to tell him all about what happened to his mother when she arrived in Sioux Falls. Without his dad his mom would have been in big trouble. Because of that, Judah believes whole heartedly in helping others.

Now it's late. The men have been sent off the job for the day but he wants to get more done. He's cut down another large section and just needs to bundle and stack it up for tomorrow. The several acres his father and uncle have amassed over the years has made harvest time daunting… but once it's done then he can rest for some time. He looks forward to that.

"Howdy!"

Judah turns around, looking to the fence separating the Devereaux farm and his own. Frank's daughter, Virginia, stands there in her farm dress, hair neatly pinned and a smile to rival the prettiest girls he's seen, looking and waving at him.

"Howdy, Miss Virginia," he says to her, pulling his hat off and wiping at his sweaty, dirt-streaked brow. "How are ya?"

"Fine, Mister Winchester," she grins and leans her elbows onto the fence. "How's yer harvest comin' along?"

"Hopin' fer just a day er two more," he answers, walking towards her. "I'm mighty excited ta finish it up this year."

"An' why's that?" she asks, a certain light, flirty tone in her voice.

Judah walks straight to her, standing right in front of her on the other side of the fence. "Well, once I git this here work done… I can ask a certain old man if I can take his beautiful daughter out on my land fer a picnic."

She blushes furiously with that. "My daddy's a hard case."

"An' I ain't nothin' if I ain't persistent… or at least that's what my daddy tells me." Judah flashes his smile that he knows makes women swoon. They have been reacting to him like that since he was just a kid grinning at church ladies for sweets every Sunday.

Virginia smiles. "I like that about ya."

And Judah grins wide. She's a tough gal, one that's not afraid to speak her mind and her feelings. He remembers his mother being that way, his Aunt Louise the same, and it's a quality he adores in women… even if he's not supposed to find it attractive at all by the standards set.

"Don't ya worry, Miss Virginia," Judah tells her, walking back towards the already cut wheat. "Ya give me a few more days an' we gonna git away from our parents fer a tick."

"I'll do my best ta be mighty patient," she smiles wider. "Ya have a goodnight, Jude."

He pops his hat back on his head and tips the brim at her in departure. She walks away from the fence, glancing once over her shoulder at him once before continuing on towards home. Judah sighs. "Fine as cream gravy, that there gal."

Getting back to work, he starts bundling up the wheat. It takes another hour but he gets it done.

Once set for the night, Judah fetches a pail of fresh water to wash up with on his way back to the house. In the past year his father hurt his back bad enough to keep him from working the fields like he used to but Judah has been insistent that he stay off his feet and out of the fields until he's well enough. His father is a very good man, one that has given all he has ever had to ensure Judah has a really great, really wonderful life. He's had to be both father and mother, he's the cleaner, the launderer, the disciplinarian, the bread winner and bread baker. Dean's had a hard life since his wife died but he's never complained. Sure, he has his off days of depression when it was Ellie's birthday or Christmas. He would disappear to the tree with Ellie's grave under it on those days, sitting for hours and speaking to her about life and how much he misses her.

But overall, Dean's been a great father. And Judah knows that.

So as he approaches the big farmhouse he sucks in a deep breath and prepares to seem not at all tired in front of his father. Harvest wasn't so bad… don't worry, dad.

"Howdy, pops," Judah greets without looking as he kicks off his boots and hangs his hat by the back door. He then brings the pail to the kitchen and pours some in the basin to wash. "How's that back 'a yers feelin'?"

Splashing water on his face and rubbing his hands together, he waits for an answer but doesn't get one. He thinks it's weird right off the bat and stands tall, grabbing a towel and drying himself as he looks to the rockers in front of the fireplace, where he always find his dad.

"Oh… howdy, Mister Novak," Judah greets when he sees both Dean and James from the few farms over sitting in rocking chairs by the unlit fireplace. "Ya here fer supper?"

"We need to speak with you," James tells him, his face serious.

When Judah looks at his dad he can see the same unfamiliar, serious expression. "Well, alright," Judah nods and tries to hide the uneasy feeling he's getting from them. He takes a seat in one of the wooden chair at their dinner table and settles in. "Whacha need ta speak about?"

"It's time," James calmly explains, his expression almost light and happy.

"Fer what?" Judah asks, smiling while looking to his dad for help understanding.

"You are a very… important person," Dean explains to him. "You were born with purpose… and the time has come to fulfill that purpose."

Judah makes a funny face, scratching at his dark brown hair that is one of the only traits he received from his mother. "Why ya talkin' like that, pops?"

"I am not your father," Dean tells him, the cold tone foreign and uncomfortable.

"What ya talkin' 'bout?" Judah laughs a little. "Ya get inta the oh-be-joyful a little early on today?"

"Your father is not drunk, nor is he present," James explains. "Judah, you need to understand that you are chosen. Your mother was aware of this from before you were even born. I have been with her for her whole life, including the day you came into this world."

Judah shakes his head. "Mister Novak, I'm sorry but… I ain't never even really talked ta ya much. I didn't know ya even knew my momma."

"I knew her very well… your father being the only person knowing her better than I," James smiles fondly. "She was a beautiful person. I miss her very much, just like you and just like your father. And she loved you more than anything."

"I know that," Judah responds, face fallen a bit. He misses her so much.

"She knew that this time would come," James keeps going. "You are to help the good and defeat the evil that will threaten this entire land. You have a mission and she knew of it all along. Elizabeth…" He smiles. "She was always proud of you and what you were to do to help the host of Heaven."

"Heaven!?" Judah spits out with shock. "What ya sayin', Mister Novak?"

"I am not James Novak," the man tells him with a slight grin, having gotten accustomed to human interactions over time. "I have not been James Novak for some time. Years, really."

"Then who are ya?" Judah asks, glancing at his father and getting more scared by the fact that he's calm and unmoving.

"My name is Castiel," he explains. "I am an angel of the Lord."

"Ya a liar," he immediately says, leaning back in his chair to get further away.

"I would not lie, never to you," Castiel swears.

"I don't believe ya." Judah stands up, backing away from Mister Novak.

"I can prove myself… but you need to be calm. Do not fear me. I am with you," Castiel tries to assure as he stands tall.

Judah watches in horror as Castiel closes his eyes for a moment, opening them again once they start glowing a brilliant blue. His entire form starts to glow, the whole display that of the impossible, before the shadow of dark, black wings appear at his back, extending out impressively.

As soon as it starts the show is over, wings no longer visible. Judah blinks away the blinding light and when he can see correctly again it's just James Novak standing there, looking at him.

"What in Sam Hill was that!?" Judah yells with fear, backing up until he hits the wood stove. "What… I don't…."

"Do not fear," Castiel calmly says, palms out to show he won't harm anyone.

"Dad!" Judah calls to his father. "Ya just gonna sit there!?"

"I am not your father," Dean's voice informs him again, getting up to stand next to Castiel. "I am Michael. The archangel."

Junior's jaw drops and he just stands there with his mouth hung open.

"Your father is in here with me. He let me in, gave me a home so I can walk this Earth and help you."

"Help me wit what!?" Judah pleads for an answer.

"You are God's vessel," Dean's voice explains as his face remains expressionless. "You are the Second Coming and you will defeat the evil one."

"Ya not makin' no sense, pop," Judah tells him, his voice now choked with fear. What is happening here?

"You have a bloodline in you," Michael continues. "You have been prophesized of for millennium."

"Me!?"

"Judah," Castiel steps forward and places a calm, warm hand on Junior's shoulder. "Your father has Biblical blood in him, a line from the ancient times of the first humans. And your mother…" he pauses and smiles. "Elizabeth had that of angels in her. She was special. And now, so are you."

"But I'mma granger," Judah shakes his head and swallows hard. "Just some… granger that work the land…."

"You are exceptional. And now you must do your job," his father's voice tells him.

"I know this is… unorthodox. And highly unnerving for you. But you have to understand…." Castiel stops midsentence and Judah watches the body language of both angels stiffen suddenly. They look highly alert, faces filled with anger, purpose, and concern.

"He's free," Michael says to Castiel out of now where.

"I felt it too," Castiel agrees.

"Who's free!?" Judah starts to really panic.

"Lucifer," Castiel explains. "You and your father are going to help fight him."

"What!?" Judah backs up again, avoiding the table and moving blindly until he hits the house wall. "I don't want ta fight no Devil! I just wanna do the harvest an' spend time with Virginia Devereaux! This ain't fer me!"

"You are not to fight the Devil," Castiel explains softly. "That is not your purpose."

"Then why is this happenin'!?"

"Because you will fight the Devil's offspring," Castiel vaguely explains. "You will defeat the Antichrist."

"What in Sam Hill ya talkin' 'bout!?" Judah near screams at this, the question once more the only thing he can figure to say.

"We must move quickly," Michael reminds Castiel. "It will not take Lucifer long to find his vessel and his daughter."

"Daughter!? Ya'll are mad!" Junior denies it all.

"You are right, Michael," Castiel sighs, turning back to Judah. "We must move. I wish I had more time to explain it all to you."

Judah just shakes his head, at a complete loss over it all.

"Judah," Michael steps forward, looking right at the young man. "We just need you to say yes."

"Ta what?" he says, his voice broken and eyes rimmed with tears.

"To God…."

"No he doesn't," Castiel says, looking to the floor with sadness as he contradicts the archangel.

"All vessels must agree…" Michael starts but gets cut off.

"God is not an angel," Castiel reminds him. "God can take what he wants without agreement. He made everything so he has free reign over everything."

Judah's eyes grow wider with total fright.

A bright, pure light starts to fill the room as they stand there, quickly enveloping the people inside it. Judah can feel a hand come to his shoulder and when he looks he sees Castiel looking at him with something akin to sympathy.

"I am sorry, my son," Castiel apologizes and the white light overwhelms them all.

* * *

This time, when their eyes fly open and they come back to reality, Dean and Lizzy don't really react quite the same as the first two times. Three different realities, three different terrible endings… they've each been effected differently and in their own way by it all.

This time, for Dean, his heart hurts much worse than it did either time before. Lying on his side, he rolls onto his back and looks up at the peeling, concrete ceiling with near defeat. He takes a deep breath and just stays there, running through the experience in his head as the squeezing grip that it has on his heart continues. He's sad, depressed, and effected to his core.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" he hears Lizzy shout with pure fire but he ignores it, just needing a moment.

Lizzy _doesn't_ need a moment. Her fire is fueled to its highest level at this point. And she's over it. Her reaction is that of pure and utter hatred.

"What the fuck!?" she shouts when she sees Castiel standing by the room door. Quickly, she gets up off the floor and marches for him. She grabs the collar of his white institute-issued t-shirt and yanks. "What are you doing, Cass!?"

"I do not like conflict, Elizabeth…."

"Too fucking bad!" she shouts and shoves him hard in the chest, making him back up a few steps. "You know who I am! You know how I feel about my son! You didn't see this coming!? You didn't think I'd get pissed at you!?"

"I had a feeling," Castiel looks to the floor, knowing he's absolutely making her go off. "And angering you was never my intention."

"Well, you fucked up then!" she shouts and steps right back into his space. "Why are you fucking with us!? What is _wrong_ with you!? Do you have any idea how shitty it is to see what my son will go through!? Or to see what it's like to not be there for him as he grows up!?"

"I do not like conflict."

With that Castiel disappears from the room.

"Cass!" she shouts to the air, needing her punching bag back. "_Castiel_! Get back here!"

He doesn't show.

"Fuck you! Fucking asshole!" she shouts out of utter rage and winds up, her fist smashing into the door of the room… the only unpadded spot in it. "_Fuck_! Ow! Shit!"

She doubles over holding her hand and groans in pain, knowing the damage is done. She's broken her hand punching things… and people… and monsters… enough times to know the familiar snap of a bone. She's done it again. That fucking angel.

"God damn it!" she curses herself and cradles her hand to her chest, trying to breathe through the pain and fire.

And with her yelling that shows just how hurt she is Dean comes out of his odd place of devastated reflection. He slowly sits up on the floor and looks at her hunched form standing by the door. Her face is wrinkled with pain but through it he sees _her_.

Dean just stares for a very quick moment. He sees Ellie. He sees Liz. He sees Beth. Moreover, he truly sees Lizzy, the absolute love of his life, for the first time in a very long time.

Before this whole experiment Dean thought he'd lost her. They were apart and his biggest fear in his life aside from losing Sam or his son was coming true. He started to think she didn't love him anymore. She said she always would but she also said she'd never leave him. Sadly, he's come to realize that she's capable of breaking promises.

But he doesn't care. In this other reality he had to watch her suffer for years. She was frail and nothing like the cursing, fiery, punch-happy woman in front of him now. In that other reality he had to wake up next to her body once it was cold, unmoving, and empty. He had to see her dead after being in his arms all night and he never was able to recover from that, not fully.

Dean loves his Lizzy. Yes, _his_ Lizzy. And he will always, without doubt, love his Lizzy. He just had to feel what it was to be madly in love with her again and again and to experience what living without her truly is.

That can't happen to him.

"Fuck me," Lizzy bitches more quietly this time, her hand pulsing with pain. She pushes out a deep breath and gets quickly accustomed to the sharp ache after the initial shock, just like any other day on the job. When she sighs and straightens up she turns to look at Dean but before she can even register what is happening she's being wrapped up tightly in arms she knows all too well.

She freezes there, his embrace squeezing her tightly, and she doesn't react at first. She's too taken off guard. And so confused. He's not mad like she is?

"Aren't you pissed?" she asks him over his shoulder, still not hugging back.

"Super pissed," he answers quietly with a heavy and sullen voice, never loosening his hold. He forgot how good and right she felt against him like this, even if she isn't reacting back.

"Uh… what the hell are you doing?" Lizzy questions him finally and her answer is unexpected.

Dean lets her go and instead holds her face, a hand to either side of her jaw. She looks at him like he's lost it, his new attitude towards her sudden and weird after the past year they've had, and he just stares at her for a couple seconds while looking like a lost little child.

"I love you," he tells her, no three words ever meaning more when coming out of his mouth.

After all they've been through recently, all the hurt and anger and loss… she's so confused by him. "What…?"

He cuts off her questioning response when the sentiment wasn't returned back to him and presses his lips swiftly to hers, holding her there and making her feel it. Even if she's too surprised to really react he can still sense it, still feel deep in his bones that this is right. This is where he belongs. And she still loves him.

He ends the kiss and holds her there, her forehead pressed to his, and just revels in the fact that he did that at all. He's listening to his gut for once, ignoring his logical mind and his stubbornness, and he's starting to see what it is Castiel wants them to understand through this ordeal.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Lizzy's soft, cautious voice asks. She felt it too, deep in her somewhere. There's that familiar spark between them. It isn't as bright as it used to be but it's there.

"I'm _always_ going to love you," Dean tells her from the very depths of his being and lets her go, stepping back. With a step put between them he continues. "I'm… I'm always going to be _in love_ with you, L. Even now… it's still there. And that's the whole damn point." He huffs with the realization.

Lizzy shakes her head and just stares at him.

"That's the message," Dean explains further, certain that he's right. "Hippie, whacked out Cass is trying to prove to us that no matter what _reality_ or whatever it is that we're dropped into we're always supposed to be together. You and me. Us and Sammy."

"All I'm seeing is my son being taken from me over and over again," Lizzy says, unable to look past much else. "His fate is sealed. We're gonna lose him." Her voice gets choked. "Dean, we're gonna lose him no matter what we do and I can't… I can't lose my little boy."

Heart breaking, Dean sighs. She's a mother first now, he's always known that. She can't look past what's happening to Sammy to see what it is Cass really wants her to see. He's not surprised in the least by this.

"Hey, no. L, no," Dean says to her, hands on her shoulders to stop her from crying. "Stop it. We aren't gonna lose him."

"We have in every fucking reality Cass showed us!" she yells desperately. "Dean! Oh God!" The tears streak down her face once more. "Please, we can't let this happen. I can't take that happening…."

"L, those other versions of us weren't hunters," he smiles. "They don't know what we know."

"And that's the point," Castiel's voice returns right then and when they look he's standing in the far corner, as far away from Lizzy as possible. "Sort of."

Lizzy's eyes go dark and ire-filled despite the tears when she sees him again. "You fucking…"

"Stop it," Dean says to her, holding her in place. He eyes her hard and silently asks her to stay put and give him a minute. She grits her teeth but nods small to agree. Dean lets her go and looks to Castiel. "The point was what, Cass? Start talking, man. We're listening."

He sighs. "There were many realities the two of you could have lived. It was up to me as guardian of Elizabeth and the Second Coming to choose which would play out in Heaven's favor. It took me so long. I remember retreating to Heaven many times to look for solace, seek revelation on the ordeal yet… nothing ever came, at least nothing I felt comfortable with."

"What's that mean?" Dean questions.

"I mean that my Father never helped. He left it all up to me." Castiel shakes his head. "I'm not sure if I should be proud that he put such an important decision on my shoulders or offended that he'd put such a difficult situation solely on me."

"So, seriously, you really could have had us live out our lives in any way at all… and you picked this crappy shitfest?" Dean questions without understanding.

Castiel smiles. "Yes."

"Why?"

Castiel cocks his head. "This past reality should have been the one I chose if I were to go with what I thought my Father would want. Michael was with your son in that one, both well and their bond very strong. Your son was ready, even if confused, and Michael would have made sure everything went in Heaven's favor. I know Father would have wanted that one."

"Why didn't you go with it then?" Lizzy asks, calming enough to listen to him, knowing that if she yells he'll disappear again.

His face wrinkles with hurt that she doesn't get it. "You were _dead_, Elizabeth."

"So?"

"I cannot have you die like that," the angel makes it clear. "I just… I couldn't bear it."

"So, you're telling me you went against your Father… for me?" she asks with shock.

Castiel steps forward, forgetting about her anger, and looks at her with sincerity. "Before you were even born I saw you through these glimpses as I prepared to choose. I knew already… I was to be more loyal to you than to my Father. I would do anything to give you the life you'd want or at least the life I thought you would choose if you could have."

Dean and Lizzy are both silent for a moment.

"I still believe you are missing the reason for this experiment," Castiel says, looking around and thinking. "This is not about your boy. I know for certain you'd both have chosen to be hunters and forego all comforts and normalcy in life in order to give him the best chances of surviving his destiny. But it's not the _why_ of the choice I made that you need to focus on. This is about something else."

"Then feel free to explain," Dean fires out evenly, losing patience.

"Dean, you were quite correct when you came to the conclusion that this was about the bond you share with Elizabeth," Castiel explains. "I never foresaw any realities in which you two ended up apart. This current situation you have created for yourselves… is wrong. You've both veered off on your own paths when you were to walk the same path together."

"Shit happens, Cassie," Lizzy tells him.

Castiel looks at her with sheer disappointment. "After all I've shown you, after all you've just felt and seen and experienced… can you honestly say you and Dean aren't meant to be together instead of apart? Can you honestly admit that you don't love him enough and that you can't fight for him?"

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She doesn't know how to answer him. Over the past couple months she's done everything she can to convince herself that not being with Dean was the right move in order to protect herself and move on.

"For the very first time I am truly disappointed in you. You have never let me down like this before," Castiel lets her know, getting a face of pure devastation right back. His words hurt her deeply. He turns away from her to focus on Dean, knowing he had to have gotten through to one of them. "Dean, you feel differently, don't you? Have you seen what I wanted you to see?"

"Yes," he says without even thinking.

"And this last reality, the one I know was _supposed_ to be the right one…."

"It wasn't," Dean assures Castiel, the sadness clear. The angel smiles ever so slightly at the conviction in his voice.

"And why not?"

"Because…" he swallows hard. "Because L was gone. That… I'm not living a life like that."

"Because you love her still."

"Yeah," he nods and glances at Lizzy, telling her with his eyes only that he does love her. And it's just as strong as ever.

"Maybe that's the key," Castiel says aloud when his mind keeps turning. He looks to Lizzy. "Maybe you just need to see what it feels like."

"What what feels like?" she asks with worry.

"What it is to live without your soulmate."

He snaps his fingers and she falls to the floor again, out like a light.

Dean flinches when she hits the ground expectantly before he peers at Castiel slowly. "What, you're sparing me this time?"

"No, you'll join her," Castiel promises. "I just wanted to assure you that I will make her see it. Elizabeth is stubborn…."

"Understatement of the century," Dean grumbles, washing a tired hand down his face as he looks down at Lizzy. She appears to be peacefully asleep but he knows better. It's already begun for her and he's not very sure he's ready to go through this anymore.

"But I will get through to her. I will make her understand, Dean," Castiel vows. "In this coming reality… she'll see it."

"Why? What's so big about this one?" Dean asks, trying to prepare himself for more mind-fucking, and when he turns around Castiel is right in front of him. The press of fingers to the forehead and Dean drops onto the floor again, joining Lizzy.

"In this one… _you_ die."


	38. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 1)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

"Look, all I know is I need a drink… or seven," Dean says as he pulls up to their usual dive bar on a Friday evening around seven. "I'm beat."

"No shit," Rick agrees, looking at the black grease under his nails that he just couldn't get out. "Fucking spring time, man. Everyone wants their old cars ready to drive but don't wanna wait."

"That's why I drive my girl year round," Dean smirks, rubbing a hand over her the dash of his Impala. "Never putting Baby in a corner. She belongs on the road."

"You're obsession is bordering on disturbing, you know that?" Rick rolls his eyes as he gets out of the car.

"Hey," Dean complains as he also gets out and locks his car up. "This is the best relationship I've ever had. I respect her and she trusts me to treat her right. Nothing wrong with that."

"You're buying the first round for being a total lame ass," Rick informs, walking for the front door.

Dean just huffs a tired laugh and walks in after Rick. He's cooked and he's pretty damn excited to get into his bed tonight but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to tie one on first. Cheap whiskey and cheaper beer. That's the answer to a very long week and thank God tomorrow is Saturday. A shorter work day followed by the Sunday ritual of sitting on the couch and eating shit food washed down with shit beer with his little brother. Dean's version of heaven is really quite simple.

The second he walks in he can smell the stale beer and hear the ZZ Top on the juke box. Perfection.

Scanning the bar as he usually does the second he gets there, it hits him like a damn Mack truck when he focuses in on the pool table.

Leaning over the edge and lining up a tough shot is the finest ass he's ever seen in his entire life. Round, perky, just big enough to be mouthwatering and not too big to be unappealing. The cut off denim jeans clinging tightly to her are doing her complete justice. And her legs, toned and tight and long as hell, disappear into tall black moto boots.

God. Fucking. Damn.

"Oh shit," Rick suddenly awes, eyes catching the girl lining up her shot twenty feet away as she's surrounded by about five men watching her closely. "Check out the talent."

Dean doesn't respond as he can feel his heart rate pick up. When the girl takes the shot, sinking the eight ball with ease, she stands up tall and he gets a clear view of her left arm and the sleeve of tattoos on it. Her brilliant white smile takes over her entire, shockingly pretty face with her victory. He hears her practically shout _'Pay up, little bitch!'_' as she looks to the very tall, very burly, very scary man that she appears not at all afraid of. She laughs as the big man hands over a small stack of bills but Dean doesn't get impressed by her winnings. He's impressed by her confidence and her beauty. She's thin with great curves and her vibe is bright and fun. When she turns around, winking at the now grumpy big man, and heads for the bar he can see that she's wearing a tight black Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

"I'm in love," Dean says, grabbing his chest and fake-stumbling a bit.

Rick laughs. "She'd eat you for breakfast."

"Promise?" Dean asks with hope, eyes never once leaving her as she leans over the bar to see where the bartender is.

"Alright, get in there," Rick says, patting Dean in the back to get him moving towards her.

"We just got here. You want me to ditch you?" Dean asks with surprise and Rick looks at him with shock.

"You land that tonight," he starts, pointing at the hottie. "And I don't give a fuck if you ditch me. Hell, I'll put the condom on your dick myself."

"Gross," Dean wrinkles his expression but it melts back into want when he eyes her again, still waiting for service.

"Dude, you don't go now then I will."

"Going now. Going right now," Dean says immediately and hustles to the bar. He swallows hard and tries to shake off the weird nerves he's got going on. Never does he get anxious around chicks. Ever. Beer, burgers, and boobs are his three main food groups. But this girl has him oddly anxious.

Once he gets about a foot away from her Dean leans his elbows onto the wooden bar top. He looks left and right and can see his buddy Tyrell pouring a few beers. When he looks down his way Dean waves at him once and Tyrell smiles and nods, silently letting him know that he'll be right over.

Dean then lets his eyes glance to the side, checking that the hot girl is still there. When he does he can see she's already looking at him so he turns his head and locks eyes.

She just stares at him.

"Like what you see?" Dean asks as casually as he can manage, heart beating even harder when he gets an up-close look at her bright brown eyes, killer smile, and long dark hair framing her face.

Her eyebrows raise with surprise. "Confidence. I like cocky men."

Dean huffs a laugh with her quick response.

"Is that your usual opening line or was that just for me?"

"If I say it was just for you would you let me buy you a drink?" he keeps trying and she licks her lips while giggling.

"Honey, I'm a girl. I'll let you buy me a drink anyways."

"Women… always looking for the alcoholic handout."

And then her face shows nothing but surprise. "Is that what you think?"

Dean eyes her down and up once, not hiding at all what he's doing. "Sweetheart, I got a feeling you haven't paid for a drink since roughly 2006."

Her eyes narrow at him as soon as he says it and he gets very nervous. He doesn't want to upset her. She seemed to have a decent sense of humor. He can't have misread her so badly already….

"Hey! Dean!" Tyrell says as he makes his way over. He holds out his hand and Dean shakes it.

"T-dog, how you doing, man?" Dean grins at him wide, happy to see his usual bartender on the typical Friday night.

"You know how I do," he responds. "What can I get you?"

Dean opens his mouth to give the usual shot of whiskey and a beer answer but the hot girl beats him to it.

"Why don't you get him a lovely, fruity cosmo," she answers very quickly with a straight face. "And I'll have a Jameson neat. Both on me."

Tyrell looks at her for just a second before he smiles. "You're gonna make this man right here drink a cosmo?" He jerks a thumb at Dean.

"No," Dean answers right away.

"If he wants to impress me… he will," she smirks, looking at Dean in challenge.

"Girl, I'd drink ten of those in a damn pink dress if I could impress you. If he's smart he'll do it," Tyrell says with excitement and just simply walks off to fill their order as the girl laughs.

"T-dog! Get me a beer, man!" Dean yells after the bartender and gets a thumbs up in return before Tyrell heads down to the other end of the bar.

"So… you _aren't_ trying to impress me?" the hot girl asks him, looking disappointed.

"Oh, I don't drink anything pink or with an umbrella, even for a hot chick."

"Guess you won't be taking home the hot chick then, will you?" she says, eyeing him obviously. "Shame, too. You're hot. The two of us could be..." She steps up closer to him, tip-toeing up to bring her face right up to his while keeping just a few inches between them. She eyes his lips obviously. "Fucking life changing."

Looking at her tinted pink lips then back up to her dark lined eyes Dean starts to think that downing one cosmo wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"So, you wouldn't find a man drinking a frou-frou drink a turn off?" he asks her.

She grins wide and leans in, getting just a touch closer. "I might… but then again I happen to find men doing what I ask them to do quite a turn on so… pick your poison, handsome."

What he wouldn't give to just lean in and kiss those perfect lips.

"One Jameson neat," Tyrell cuts in and the girl takes a step back as he places two drinks in front of them. "And one… _cosmo_."

Tyrell laughs hard at Dean's disappointed look.

"Come on, man…" Dean complains.

"Hey, the beautiful woman bought you a drink. I say suck it up, dude."

"You should listen to T-dog," she informs Dean and slaps a twenty down on the bar from the stack she just recently won. "Enjoy that." She picks up her drink, winks at him, and walks back to the pool table, hips swaying the entire way

"Could bounce a nickel off that ass," Dean appreciates as he leans his back into the bar and Tyrell watches on with him, leaning his forearms on the surface.

"Mm, damn fine," Tyrell adds in, observing her set up a new game while putting down more money on the table to bet. "Been a while since we saw a girl like that come through this dive."

Dean hums with one last look at her before turning back around. When he sees the pink drink in a martini glass waiting for him he groans.

"Aw, just drink it man," Tyrell calls him out. "Are you seriously too proud to down one fruity drink in order to later down _that_?" He widens his eyes and points to the girl.

"You think it'll work?" Dean wonders.

"She already checked you out over here like a starved woman in a damn chocolate factory since returning to the table over there," Tyrell lets him know, having caught the girl's eyes slide their way.

"Yeah!?" he asks with excitement.

"Yeah, man. You're golden if you drink that," Tyrell promised, only half sure. Really he just wants to watch his buddy drink a fucking cosmo.

"Alright, so… Sex and the City bitch drink or not hitting the most smokin' chick I've ever seen…." He quickly weighs his options, glances over his shoulder at her one last time, and then decides. He picks up the glass, pinky finger out comically because if he's going to do this then he's going to do this in style, and nods at Tyrell. "Cheers."

"You enjoy that, man," Tyrell laughs and gets back to serving people as Dean heads for his and Rick's usual corner table. On his way he makes eye contact with the girl. A happy, bright smile spreads across her face as he raises his glass to her. She tips hers up also and the silently cheers from across the room. He can hear her giggle when he takes a sip and he scrunches his face with the offending taste.

"What the fuck is that!?" Rick shouts when he sees Dean sit down with a cosmo.

"I'm getting laid so hard tonight, dude," Dean says with sheer young enthusiasm.

"Not drinking that shit, you're not," Rick says with audacity. "What the hell…?"

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

He waited until her next two games were done, her glass was empty, and she went back to the bar before getting up for his second drink of the night.

"Need a drink?" Dean quickly asks Rick without looking at him, his voice rushed and his eyes glued to the perfect form walking across the room.

"Yeah, uh… why don't you get me…."

"Absolutely," Dean responds, not listening at all and getting out of his seat. He books it to the bar.

"Dick!" Rick yells after him but it doesn't matter. "Get me a fucking beer!" Dean's clearly got a mission.

Once he sidles up next to her he makes a show of placing his empty martini glass on the bar, elbow casually leaning on the surface as he smirks at her. She looks from the glass to him and smiles.

"So you actually did it," she nods, impressed.

"It wasn't half bad," he shrugs, acting like it was no big deal.

"It was terrible," she corrects for him.

"It _was_ terrible," he nods and laughs in return, telling the truth.

"Let me make it better, hm?" she asks permission and turns to the bar. "T-dog!"

He looks down the way at her.

"I need two shots of bourbon, stat!" When Tyrell nods and continues what he's doing first, the girl returns her gaze to Dean. "Better?"

"As long as you're buying."

"What am I, made of money?" she asks with slight shock.

"After the show you gave over at the pool tables? You're rolling in it, sister," Dean comments, knowing she's won every game and taken a pretty penny off of several men so far.

Her eyes light up and she shares a sultry smile. "You've been watching me, have you?"

His heart skips for a second there. "What the hell else would I be watching in here?"

He swears he sees her blush just a bit with the comment.

Tyrell drops two shots down on the bar in front of them and the girl looks at him. "And can I also get a couple Sam Adam's please?"

"Sure thing."

The girl picks up her shot glass, tapping her finger on the other one and Dean gets the hint. He lifts his up and looks right into her eyes. "To making new friends."

"New friends," she says right back and they clink glasses, downing their shots quickly.

"Ah, that's the stuff," Dean relaxes as the taste washes away the tart and terrible cosmo after burn. He then realizes something. "You know, I don't even know my new friend's name."

She holds out her hand. "Lizzy."

"Dean," he shakes her hand. "So, Lizzy… I come here all the time and I have never once seen you."

"That's because I travel a lot," she explains, paying Tyrell with a nod one he returns, before leaning an elbow into the bar much like Dean is. "Never stay in one place."

"Why not?"

"My job," she says vaguely, taking a big gulp of beer.

"What do you do?"

She hesitates. "Pest control."

"Pest control!?" he asks with total disbelief. "You!?"

"Why not?" she shrugs.

"You don't look like you're in pest control is all."

"What do people in pest control look like, Dean?" she pushes him a bit with a smile.

"They look like… big, fat men that have their ass cracks hanging out when they bend over." Lizzy laughs good at that. "And they certainly don't look anything like you or else I'd be praying for a mice."

She's seeing just how good he is in the moment. "Guess I'm full of surprises, then."

"I sure hope so," Dean says, taking a full blown shining to her already.

Her unstoppable grin makes him think he's doing quite well with her right about now.

"What do _you_ do?" she asks, diverting the attention away from herself.

"I am a mechanic," Dean tells her. "Specializing in classics."

"Nice… um… well, I know nothing about cars," Lizzy admits with a huffed laugh.

"Oh, I love cars. They speak my language."

"You speak the language of cars?" she smirks.

"Oh yeah, and they speak to me right back," Dean nods, joking within the truth of his life.

"You speak any other languages?" Lizzy questions, eyeing him obviously.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he cocks an eyebrow at her.

She just nods a bit and looks him over, recognizing how damn good looking he is. She knew he was something after that first conversation but he's more than she gave him credit for at first. He's stunning, really. Bright green eyes, insanely pornographic lips, the five o'clock shadow, the swagger, the confidence, the insane build, they perfectly imperfect bow legs… she's already decided how her night's about to end.

"You know, Dean… I'm staying…."

"LL Cool Noon!"

Both turn their heads to catch the sight of a very thin, very drunken man approaching them after interrupting Lizzy' invitation for the night.

"Buy me a shot!" he says once he reaches them, his arm around Lizzy's shoulders as he leans his stumbling weight onto her. "Poppa brought home some serious bacon tonight."

"Nice, Garth," Lizzy laughs at him, her arm around the man's waist as she points to the man she's speaking to. "Garth, hon, this is Dean. Dean, this is my work partner Garth."

Lizzy doesn't miss the way Dean's shoulders drop with relaxation after finding out Garth is just a work buddy.

Garth looks at him and his face drops. "Hello." He holds his hand out, expression suddenly hardened a touch.

"Nice to meet you," Dean forces a smile and shakes his hand.

Then Garth simply stares at him with a judgmental glare.

"Did I… do something wrong?" Dean asks, eyes shifting between the drunken man and the girl he's been chatting with off and on.

"No. He's just over protective of me," Lizzy explains, shoot Garth a harsh glare to tell him silently to stop.

"Come on, let's do shots!" Garth shouts out of nowhere and leans over the bar, waving to Tyrell not unlike Lizzy did earlier but with much less coordination.

"Maybe that's a bad idea, hon," Lizzy tries to stop him but he waves her off.

"Drinking's never been a bad idea, Noon," Garth rebuts and won't listen.

She knows when to give up when it comes to her partner. Instead she looks to Dean. "You can hold your own, right Dean?" Lizzy asks.

"Bring it on," Dean says to her. "Why don't we get a whole bunch of shots and beers and head back to my table?" He pulls out his wallet and plops down his credit card. No, he shouldn't blow this kind of money, but this girl is fun and he'd do anything to impress Lizzy at this point.

"You have a table?" Lizzy asks.

"Yeah, my buddy Rick's over there."

"Tyrell, buddy!" Garth yells out obnoxiously and rudely despite not meaning to be and Lizzy has to take over.

"Whoa! Hey! Maybe don't try and piss off the bartender, Garthie…."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"So…" Lizzy says, her body completely turned towards Dean as she leans an elbow onto their table and smiles something very sexy. "I gotta say… this was the most fun I've had at a bar in a long time."

"Oh yeah?" Dean questions, his focus drifting to her lips several times. He can't stop. He just wants to kiss her so badly. Among other things, of course.

"Mmhmm, and that's saying something," she laughs lightly.

"Hang out at a lot of seedy bars, do you?"

"Enough," she nods. "But I never run into guys like you."

"And what are guys like me like?" Dean pushes her, taking a sip of his last beer.

"Fun. Kind. A little overconfident but… somehow a little sweet still," she speaks freely, the alcohol releasing her filter. "And really, _really_ hot."

"Oh, well, you're gonna make me blush," Dean smirks.

They hear Garth giggling in a very wasted tone and both glance over in time to see him slumping over a bit with closed eyes, ready to pass out.

"Looks like my guy's cooked," Lizzy says to Dean, eyes darkening.

"Absolutely," Dean huffs a laugh. "Been done for a while."

"I'll have to bring him back," she says in a downer tone.

"Or… you could call him a cab…." Dean eyes her to see if she's on board with the idea he's floating.

"What are you suggesting?" Lizzy asks, pushing for what she's been dying for since they first started talking.

Dean puts down his beer and leans in a little closer to her. "Depends."

"On?"

He leans into her ear and says very quietly, "If you want me to show you the best fucking night of your life or not."

Damn, he's a cocky son of a bitch. "What makes you so sure it'll be my best?" she asks back in a near whisper, her lips just an inch from his.

Dean closes the space and kisses her. His mouth presses to hers slowly before opening a bit, dragging his lips down hers deliberately. It's sexy and somehow full of passion and promise despite them being in a semi-crowded, dirty dive bar.

His heart pounds when he feels it. There's a spark there, one he wasn't ready for. He knew kissing her would be damn good but this is beyond that. This is… he's not sure what the hell this is.

When he pulls back, despite not wanting to, he can see the same surprise on her face that he's pretty sure is all over his.

"Wow," she whispers out.

"Damn straight," Dean quickly agrees.

"Let's get outta here," Lizzy says, scrambling out of her seat with sudden desperations. "Your place."

"What about Garth?" Dean asks, looking back at the smiling, head-lolling man.

"Fuck me," Lizzy complains and marches for him, linking an arm in his and pulling him to his feet. "Come on, hon. Time to get you a cab. Quickly."

* * *

Once he has the door unlocked, Dean turns to Lizzy behind him while pressing his index finger to his lips.

"Why do I have to be quiet?" Lizzy asks with total confusion as they enter the small, one floor home.

"My brother's sleeping," Dean says simply and shuts the door behind them, locking it. He then grabs her hand and makes his silent way to the basement door, pulling it open at the slowest speed possible in order to avoid the squeal it tends to sometimes make. It doesn't make a peep and he smiles. "After you." He gestures for her to go first.

Lizzy takes one look down the steps of the clearly finished basement and gets nervous for a second. "Why the basement?"

"My room's down there," Dean says with a confused face. He watches her pat the pocket of her cut off denim shorts, fingers twitchy, before looking at him.

"Can I head to the bathroom first?"

"Sure, right there," he points to the door in the hallway. She smiles and heads off, making herself silent as she does and he appreciates her efforts. As soon as she's gone Dean rushes down the stairs. He needs to clean up a bit and it just dawned on him.

Shoving strewn about clothing into his closet, he regrets the way he lives instantly. At twenty-six years old he shouldn't be living like a messy teenage in his dad's house. The least he could do was pretend to be an adult and keep it neat. But no, he's still just him. Dean proceeds to move a little faster when he can hear the toilet flush upstairs, shoving a couple beer cans under his bed as well as a half-eaten bag of Doritos. He then ties to make up his bed to look like he's actually more proper than he is and he then runs to his dresser, sniffing a cologne he got for Christmas a year back and thinking what the hell. A quick spray of that and he's ready… he hopes.

The door to the basement closes and he hears her footsteps descend. Panicking with his nervousness, Dean leans onto his dresser trying to look casual. Elbow on the flat surface, legs crossed at the ankles, hands clasped together… yeah, casual.

She gets to the bottom step and stops, looking at his body language before scanning the room. "How stuffed is that closet right now?"

He laughs as she calls him out right away. "To avoid an avalanche of dirty clothes, I suggest you don't open it." He hops up on his dresser and sits with his feet hanging down, relaxing a bit with her accurate accusation.

"So… you live with your parents?" she asks, walking around and looking at the posters on the wall. A 1969 Charger, Led Zeppelin, Iggy Pop, a Lamborghini with bikini clad model draped across it, the Ramones, Pearl Jam… oh yeah.

"My dad," Dean tells her, hands still clasped in his lap as she studies his habitat closely. He doesn't mind all that much so he lets her. "It's just me, dad, and my brother."

"Younger?"

"Yup."

"Ah… I had a younger brother. Drove me fucking crazy," she laughs to herself with something very sad, picking up a magazine off his nightstand. She knows she just said too much so she tries to move on quickly. Once getting a good look at the magazine in her hand she smirks, holding it out to him in question.

He missed the Busty Asian Beauties while rush-cleaning.

"Oh, that's, uh… not…." He freaks out a little.

"Relax," Lizzy huffs a laugh as she flips through it casually, surprising Dean. "You're a red blooded American man. I get it… though a magazine is awfully archaic, don't you think? I mean, there's endless free porn on the internet."

"I like to go vintage every now and then," Dean smirks.

"Respecting the roots of pornographic material. I can get down with that," she nods before looking at the Asian cover model. "Guess I'm not really in your demographic, am I?"

"Oh, I'm no racist, sweetheart," Dean assures her. "I'm equal opportunity."

"Good to know," she laughs and drops the magazine back down where she found it. "Hey, uh, you got a dock for this?" She pulls her classic iPod out of her purse before dropping her bag on the floor.

"Yeah, uh…." He hops down from his seat and walks to the bureau on the other side of the small room. He picks up the speaker dock and hands it over.

"Perfect. Thanks," she says, taking it and popping in her iPod. Within seconds 'Ride On' fills the room at an acceptable volume for the house not being empty and she places it on top of the porn mag on the nightstand. Her hips sway as she listens to the bluesy song for a second, feeling damn good to be where she is and be this perfectly drunk without being sloppy at all.

"AC/DC fan?" Dean questions, watching her get into the song for a second.

"Who the hell isn't?" she asks with a smile when she turns to face him.

"No one I wanna know," Dean comments, agreeing with her. "So you like good music."

"So do you, looking around this room," she nods to the posters hung up.

"Yeah, uh… I've been living here a while and… haven't had time to redecorate," he quips with slight embarrassment.

"Aw, I like it," she says, hips still swinging as she slowly makes her way to him. "It's perfect… for an eighteen year old."

"Hey now," Dean takes offense. "I'm a solid twenty-six these days. Have some respect."

She eyes him with something serious as she reaches him, her arms snaking around his neck as she looks up at him. "Dean… I don't care how you live. I don't. Parent's basement, frat house, mansion, cardboard box… doesn't matter to me. I am _not_ one to judge how someone chooses to live, trust me. Just…." Lizzy presses up on her toes, getting closer. "Relax. And enjoy the company."

"Not a problem," Dean says before closing the very little space left between them. His hands sliding onto her hips and gently pulling her closer, Dean lets himself kiss her. He'd been waiting to kiss her since he first saw her and then once he actually did kiss her at the bar he's been dying to do it some more. He might have driven over the speed limit to get them back, and maybe he should have thought twice before driving at all since he was on that line of being cab-worthy, but they're here. He's alone with the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen and he can't help but thank his lucky stars for that.

Their lips moving, tongues quickly twisting, both suddenly find themselves more than at ease with each other. It's been quite easy to get comfortable within their conversations and company, even once they were alone in the car on the way to Dean's house. It just clicked right off the bat.

When Dean's hands slide from her hips back and down, landing on her ass through her very short denim cutoffs, Lizzy hums. When he squeezes her round cheeks she moans slightly.

"Let's get naked," she suggests with a bright, sexy smile as she grabs the bottom of his t-shirt. When she first eyed him over after finding him standing next to her at the bar she knew that what was under the just tight enough cotton shirt and casual jeans was something quite mouthwatering. He's got a solid enough build to promise a good time even if his skills are lacking. Sadly, Lizzy knows that the better looking the man the less likely it is that he's anything to write home about in bed. Hot men don't have to try so hard.

"My God, I love the way you think," Dean tells her.

* * *

The blaring noise of an alarm clock beeping slices through his brain with a painful level that has him groaning in complete complaint from his sheets.

"Ah… nooooo…." he bitches aloud as he reaches over to his nightstand to shut off the alarm clock ruining his morning. He smacks it once with well-practiced yet blind aim and it stops. He then thankfully flops back onto his bed, face down in his pillow, but when he does his arm gets draped over a warm lump in the bed next to him.

"Mm, too early," a quiet voice says to him and when he opens his eyes he catches the sight of Lizzy curling up into his side. The night comes back in flashes of bare skin, pleasured moans, and absolute perfection. He can't remember having a night like that before. He's actually pretty sure he _hasn't_ had a night like that before. He's never had such a connection with that much strength to a chick he'd just met. Every touch was perfect and when they found that sweet spot where neither had to think and both were completely wrapped up in the other….

"Holy shit," Dean huffs to himself as he realizes how honestly wonderful his night was. He rolls over onto his back while giving her a good once over. Her eyeliner is a bit smudged, her hair is everywhere… but she still looks spectacular.

"What?" Lizzy asks in a groggy, still half asleep tone as she lets an arm make its way across his stomach, her fingertips just brushing his skin as she does. She rests her head on his shoulder and pulls him in tight.

"Mm, I just… had a _really_ good night," Dean tells her honestly as he brings an arm around her shoulders. He presses his cheek into her forehead and closes his eyes, shocked with how tensionless he is with waking up to a one night stand still in his bed. Usually they're gone long before morning.

"It _was_ good," she sighs, still half asleep.

Dean lays there for a second, letting life be the good thing that it is at the moment. He has to get to work. And Lizzy probably needs a ride to wherever it is she's staying. Maybe if he doesn't shower before work he can stay like this for a good ten minutes instead of get up right this second….

"You have to work or something?" Lizzy asks, cracking her eyes open and looking up at him. He must. His alarm was set for a Saturday morning.

"Uh, yeah," Dean nods, sad that he does. He looks at her with her bright brown eyes light up by the morning sun coming through the small basement window. She's gorgeous. "Gotta get in by ten. You need a ride anywhere or…."

"Back to my motel probably," she nods before tucking her head back under his chin. "How long before we have to move?"

"I can do ten minutes more," Dean tells her.

"Oh, serious? That's it?" she asks with disappointment.

"Yeah."

"Better get going then," Lizzy tells him as she sits up. When she does the sheet falls away from her body and reveals that she's still naked, this time even her boots are gone. He gets a good look at the sleeve of tattoos on her upper arm and can't help the twitch his already hard dick makes when he sees it. Such a little badass. She's awesome.

"Get going?" Dean questions as she reaches for his nightstand drawer. "We have ten minutes…."

"To use fucking, not sleeping," she informs him as she shuts the drawer, condom in her hold. She climbs on top of him with a lovely smile. "You down?"

"As long as you don't mind morning breath," he jokes as he watches her tear open the small packet with a laugh.

"I've smelled much worse things," she jests as she straddles his hips. "Gotta get what I can when I can."

"You're not in town long?" Dean questions, his heart sinking with the idea

"Not too much longer, no," she shakes her head in answer, leaning down to press a palm to either side of his jaw. She kisses him suddenly and innocently. "We move around a lot."

"Can you meet me tonight before you go then?" Dean asks, the young hope on his face reminding her of a sweet little boy as his hands come to her waist lightly. It kills her a little more.

"I don't know…," she starts, knowing her plans for the night already.

"Come on," Dean tries a little harder, he shakes her back and forth just a little with his light grip on her and she giggles. "Dinner. Me and you."

Her eyes blow wide. "Did you just ask me on a _date_?"

"I wanna get to know you," Dean shrugs as he's very honest with a girl for the first time in… years.

"You didn't get to know enough about me last night!?" she jokes with a bright laugh.

"Oh, I got to know a lot of you," he smirks slickly. "But I don't know who you really are. I wanna know more."

"Don't you fall for me, Dean," she warns in a joking manner as she sits up tall on his hips, her hands dragging down his bare torso. "I'll just break your heart."

"Oh, will you?" he asks.

"I can't stay in one place," Lizzy logics. "I have to move on. My job keeps me… busy. And everywhere."

"Pest control, you mean?" he recalls from last night.

"I'm a specialist," she explains. "Not many people can do what I do. Demand is high."

"Well… that just means you'll roll through here again at some point, right?" he figures. "And when you do… I want to get a call."

Looking away from him as an unstoppable, completely smitten smile creeps into her expression. Biting her bottom lip, when she looks back Dean's eyebrows are lifted in question. Shit. He really likes her. And what's worse… she really likes him too.

"Just have dinner with me," Dean tries again. "When you're done working today give me a call and we'll make it work out."

"Fine," Lizzy rolls her eyes. "Yeah. I'll call you when I'm done working."

"And you just made my day," Dean tells her with a wide grin as he pulls her down when he cups her face, kissing her hard for her agreement. His day at work is going to crawl by now but he already can't wait for the night to hit.

"And now I want _you_ to make my _morning_," she says, lips on his still as she shakes her hips a little to get him going.

"_Dean_!"

Both freeze immediately with the younger voice calling out Dean's name from the top of the basement stairs.

"Shit," Dean mutters and yanks the blankets up over them securely, just in case.

"Dean! Come on, man! Get up!"

"Sammy! Stay up there, dude!" Dean tells what Lizzy assumes is his little brother.

"You said you'd drive me to campus, dick!" Sam name calls. "Get going! I can't be late!"

"I'll be up in a couple minutes," Dean says, rubbing his eyes. "You won't be late, I promise."

"Aw, man! Do you have a girl down there?" Sam starts to figure it out. "Dad said…."

"Dad's not here. Shut the door, Sam! I'll be up!"

"Fine. Jerk…."

They hear the door shut and Dean sighs heavily. "Bitch…."

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Lizzy says to him with a guilty grin, feeling like she's to blame.

"No fucking way," Dean promises, rolling them over and ducking his head down to kiss her neck. "This was a great idea. We just have to make this quick."

"Then you better bring you're A-game," she laughs a little, then moans when he does in fact bring his A-game.

* * *

"Coffee to go?" Dean asks, looking at Lizzy over his shoulder as he pours his own into a travel mug at the counter in his kitchen.

"Oh, uh… yes. Please," Lizzy answers, now fully dressed in her t-shirt and shorts from the bar last night, her long moto boots on. When she pulled them onto her feet that morning she grinned like an idiot, remembering how he made her keep them on last night. Damn, he's fun.

"You mind if we stop by the campus before I drop you off?" Dean asks, prepping her coffee too. "Sammy pitches a fit if he's late for his study group meetings."

"That's fine," she laughs lightly, looking at photos littering the refrigerator. Mostly it's pictures of Dean and what he assumes is his little brother. Playing at parks. In front of the Christmas tree. Birthdays.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Just cream, thanks," she responds absently before turning to him. "You two look nothing alike," Lizzy says, pointing to a picture of Dean and Sam around ages ten and six respectively, arms around each other outside of an old cabin, fishing equipment leaning against the outside wall behind them.

"Yeah, I've heard that before," Dean grins while talking about his brother. "We each got a parent. I look more like dad. Sammy takes after mom mostly."

Lizzy catches the sadness in the last part of his statement. She doesn't know what happened to his mother but it's left him still missing her terribly, she can tell. Lizzy then sees a photo of a beautiful blonde woman, her arm around a little blonde haired boy not any older than four with a baby in her other arm. They both have brilliant smiles on, so happy to be with each other and with what's clearly Dean's little brother. "Is this her? You're mom?"

Dean screws on the caps of the travel mugs and walks to her. He looks over her shoulder at his favorite photo he has left of his mother and him together. "Yeah, that's mom." His voice is quiet and filled with longing.

"Dean, she's stunning," Lizzy says, it being the truth. She really is. Every woman would be thrilled to be half as gorgeous as her.

"Yeah, well… she was even more stunning on the inside," Dean comments quickly and holds out her mug, putting his mask of toughness right back on. "Here. Cream, no sugar."

"Thank you." She grins at him and he grins back. He makes a funny face of contemplation before he surprises her by leaning down to kiss her once. It was sweet and she wasn't prepared for it but she's glad he went for it. It was slightly domestic and quite comfortable for a one-nighter but neither seem to care so much about that.

Dean pulls away, grins, and then looks down the hallway. "Sammy! Let's hit it!"

"Finally!"

When the tall, shaggy haired young man of twenty-one makes it into the kitchen with his backpack on and annoyed face, Lizzy freezes in her place, heart stopping and feet glued to the floor.

Holy shit. It's _him_.

"Watch your tone," Dean bitches more like a father than a brother, grabbing his keys.

"Watch the _clock_." Sam sighs his sharp-tongued rebuttal and looks to his side, seeing a woman standing there. "Who are you?"

She opens her mouth to speak but she can't, too stunned by his presence. Shit, she can't even breathe. Why is _he_ here?

"That's Liz," Dean says with a grin her way. "I'm giving her a ride back after I drop you off."

"That's nice, Dean," Sam bitches and heads for the door. "You're lucky dad isn't here."

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean calls after him before rolling his eyes once Sam's outside. He looks to Lizzy. "Kids, huh?"

"Ha, yeah," she says with sheer nervousness while trying her best to win an Oscar.

"Let's get a move on," Dean says to her and heads for the door, holding it open for her.

Lizzy swallows hard with fear. She quickly glances back at the refrigerator at an envelope held there by a magnet. She checks the address.

_John Winchester_

_382 Willow Tree Lane_

_Palo Alto, CA 94305_

Winchester! _What_!?

"Oh God damn it," Lizzy huffs under her breath. Of course the guy she spends an incredible night with would have that last name. She forces a smile on her face and heads out the door to the car.


	39. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 2)

"I fucked his brother!"

"Who's there!?" Garth sharply sits up in bed with the sound of Lizzy's panicked voice, his eyes opened to slits at best and hair wild from sleep. The motel room door slams shut and he groans. "Ow!" he complains and presses his hands into either side of his head. It's pounding and the sound is so jarring and loud it's making his headache much worse.

"That guy, Dean? From the bar?" Lizzy starts, sitting on the edge of Garth's bed in last night's clothing. She continues on, ignoring his clear hangover in the midst of her panic. "He's Sam Winchester's _brother_!"

"What!?" Garth wonders, very out of it and desperately trying to kick start his brain so he can follow.

"His fucking name is Dean _Winchester_! The guy I went home with last night… he's a Winchester."

He stares at her for a moment, everything sinking in as he wakes up with her clearly alarmed state. Suddenly, he gets it. "Noooo…" Garth drags out with sheer disbelief.

"Yes."

"That's _crazy_," he says back, not believing such a coincidence.

"I swear to it, Garthie," Lizzy says, wide, worried eyes on him. "I woke up this morning at Dean's house…."

"Slut," Garth says and laughs a little.

"Shut up," Lizzy says with annoyance that he's not focused and shoves him a little.

"Ow," Garth whines quietly to himself and Lizzy ignores him.

"Shit, I woke up there and the next thing I know I'm walk of shaming it to his car for a ride back here with the supposed leader of the coming demon _fucking_ army in the back _fucking_ seat!"

"Ok, calm down a tick here, alright? Get a little Zen," Garth asks of her, holding his palms out to her. "Deep breath."

Lizzy inhales through her nose and exhales once.

"So, you met one of the next up and comers?" he tries in a more calm fashion.

"_The_ up and comer." She nods sharply.

"Huh… who knew he had a brother?" Garth comments with surprise.

"_You_ should have!" Lizzy gets pissed of immediately, her calming breath already long forgotten. "You told me you did _all_ the research on this guy!"

"I did!" Garth defends. "He's about to turn twenty-two, just like the rest. There was a house fire on his six month B-day, like the rest. His mom died in the fire, like most of the rest… what more did we need?"

With a clenched jaw and wide eyes, Lizzy stares at him with hate. "How about that he has a smoking hot brother that I might end up sleeping with, for starters!"

"He wasn't _that_ hot, LL," Garth says with a tinge of jealousy.

"Garthie, I love you, but he seriously was," she tells him with pure certainty. "He's, like, _Pitt _hot."

"Alright, let's not talk boys. I hate when you try and do that with me," Garth makes a face of dislike. "So? What's this Sam guy like?"

She pauses and thinks about it. "He's… kinda bitchy."

"How so?"

"Dean was running late getting him to campus this morning and he was just… pissy. He was super uptight about it. I mean, it's just a study group, dude. Calm down."

"What else?" Garth asks.

"Uh… he's tall. Like freakish tall for a white dude not in the NBA. And he's really intelligent. I could tell just by the way he spoke in casual conversations." This is where Lizzy sighs hard. "And he seemed really nice once he calmed down and knew he wasn't going to be late. He was sweet. He asked about me, made fun of his brother… he's just a sweet kid. I think we're wrong about this one."

"No way," Garth shakes his head immediately. "You heard what that demon said…."

"And demon's lie all the fucking time," she rebuts.

"Bobby believes it all," Garth reminds her. "He's down for the Yellow Eyes theory and that there's a new leader coming. And that demon he tortured named names… and seemed like he had quite the hard on for this Winchester fellow specifically. All the facts line up, Liz. You know they do. And the demons are banking on Sam."

"But he's _so_ normal. They both are. They don't know about the supernatural at all, or it doesn't seem like it," Lizzy tries again. "And… I don't think he has any idea that he's been marked by a big wig from down under. He doesn't even know about demons at all."

"How could he?"

"None of them do, I know," she shrugs. "But he's normal as a slice of white bread. And just as exciting to boot."

"Boring Head of Hell's Army," Garth says with a surprise. "Doesn't seem right."

"Or maybe it's very right," Lizzy plays devil's advocate with herself. "He seems driven and hard working. He was annoyed by the thought of being late for studying on a Saturday. And he's scary smart."

"Seriously, how could you know that?"

"All Dean did was brag about his brilliant brother on the ride to Stanford." She rolls her eyes. "Apparently he's going on a full ride. He had nearly perfect SATs and his LSATs were off the charts. He's applying to law school and he's a shoe in for another full ride."

"So… he's perfect for leadership?" Garth asks.

With a sigh, Lizzy answers, "Add in the presidential good looks and tall, intimidating stature… he's fucking _made_ for leadership."

"Ok, good… um, so then… which side are you on again?" Garth asks with a confused face as he scratches at his morning hair. "Sam for Hell President or Sam for class president?"

Lizzy flops onto her back at the foot of the bed with a complaining groan. "I don't know! I just … fuck." She lifts her head to look at him. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Future poster child of misery and hell on Earth," Garth nods and hunches his shoulders over.

"Fuck, man," Lizzy laments as she closes her eyes, wanting to puke over what she's found out. "And his brother was so… damn it."

"You liked that Dean guy that much?"

"He's pretty cool."

"You love him?"

"Ew, no!" Lizzy says and punches his leg through the comforter.

"Ow! Bitch!" Garth calls her. "And you're a liar."

"I know," she whines, hand over her eyes. "Oh God, I _really_ liked him."

"What's so great about him?"

"He's…." Lizzy pauses, thinking about how to answer properly. "He's nice. And he… was giving. And just… fuck, he was sweet. And hot. And the sex was freakin' awesome…."

"Whoa, whoa," Garth grabs her forearm and she looks at him. "Be a lady."

"Fuck being a lady! He was mind blowing. And now… I have to kill his brother." She sits up facing Garth, sitting Indian-style. "Why? Why can't I just… go have dinner with Dean, fuck him again, and bounce like usual? This blows!"

"It's our job, LL," Garth says to her, grasping her hand. "It ain't fair but we do the world some serious good."

Lizzy's stone cold, emotionless face stares back at him. "Thanks for the bullshit Oprah moment."

"You're welcome," Garth says sincerely, not getting that she's upset with him, and he gets out of bed in his t-shirt and boxers. He heads for the bathroom. "Let's call our man up and check with him first. After he confirms we got the right guy we'll set up our plan."

"Deal," Lizzy nods sadly, hating that she has to do this. "And we can go to his house later tonight to do it. I can distract Dean while we do."

"How?"

She looks at him with guilt, sadness, and preemptive remorse. "He asked me on a date."

Garth suddenly looks quite sad himself with the news of this. "I'm sorry, Liz."

She smiles lightly and shrugs. "Nothing you can do about it."

Garth nods. "Call our man!"

He disappears into the bathroom and Lizzy pulls her phone out of her back pocket, speed dialing number one.

"Hey, Bobby. We're fine…. Well, that's why I'm calling. We found Sam," she tells him. "I just need to you make sure he's one of our guys…. I just have a weird feeling that we should check again is all…. Hey! Andy was cool and he was innocent. We let him go…. No, not Anson. Touché…. Yeah, I know they all say Sam is the front runner. Fuck…. Sorry! Habit. Ok, just look up Samuel Winchester in Stanford, California again, give him a serious dissection before you give us the green light. You have to be sure! I don't want to off an innocent one…."

* * *

Standing up tall from his hunched over position, his head in the engine of a beautiful '72 GTO he's far too happy to work on, Dean pulls out his cell phone from his coverall pocket when it vibrates. He sees her name pop up on the screen and without knowing it he starts smiling like an idiot.

"Dean's House of Love, how can I service you?" Dean brightly answers, far too happy to talk to her.

"Hey… Dean," Lizzy responds simply to his jesting, sitting on her motel room bed with her head bowed. She puts on a brave face, or tone really, and sets up her and Garth's plan.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?" he jokes with a happy voice, pinning the phone between his shoulder and ear while wiping down his hands on a rag.

She can't help but huff a quiet laugh at his ridiculous ways. "You use that one on all the cute girls?"

"Only the ones I really like," Dean laughs his response, secretly surprised at how easily he can be honest with her. "How's your day going so far? Hordes of angry mice? Some rabid bats maybe?"

She smiles, her cheeks breaking with it. "Something like that. Nothing I can't handle though."

"You must be good."

"Best in the biz, baby."

"I'll remember that when I find myself with a critter problem."

"Call me anytime," she tells him.

"You know, I think I will," Dean lets her know, more than happy to think about calling her up in the future.

She doesn't know how to respond to that, never having had a one nighter take such an instant shine to her with such certainty.

And Dean isn't sure how to take the silence. "Unless… you don't want me to…."

"No!" Lizzy stops him right away. "Oh, no, that's not it. I just… I told you, I move around a lot."

"And I told you that you'll always know where to find me when you swing through," Dean tells her.

Lizzy huffs her surprise as she picks at a loose thread in the comforter she's sitting Indian-style on. "I really wouldn't mind finding you now and then, when I make it out to the west coast." She bites her bottom lip with excitement over admitting that.

"That's really good… because if you ever came this way and didn't call me? I'd be heartbroken."

She presses a hand over her stupidly grinning mouth with the spark in her chest he gives her.

"So, um," she starts to set plans but she just can't make herself do it. She can't set him up for such devastation like this. "Uh, how's your work day going?" She cringes with the lameness along with how much of a coward she's being.

"Pretty good, actually," Dean tells her, leaning his hip into the grill of the car he's working on. "Guy came in with an old GTO in near mint condition that's got a little rattle under the hood. It's…." He pauses as he looks it over. "It's a thing of real beauty."

"Oh really?"

"Oh God, yes," he enthusiastically answers, looking over the shiny green paint and polished chrome. "She's cherry. 389 V-8 with 325 horsepower. She's got a classic sport suspension and a three-speed Hurst manual floor shifter… and does any of this make sense to you?"

"Not a word," she laughs hard. "I told you, I know nothing about cars."

"No car talk then, got it," Dean says easily.

"No, you can talk about cars," she assures him, honestly not minding. "You obviously love them."

"Motor oil is in my blood at this point."

"Then talk all you want about cars. I like hearing you sound that excited."

"You do?" Dean grins wide.

"Well… yeah," she says awkwardly, shocked by how true it is.

"Then… do you want to listen to me talk cars over dinner? Tonight?" Dean tries, hoping this was why she called.

"Ha, um, yeah," Lizzy barely gets out. She's nervous again now that she has to lie to him. "That's why I was calling."

"I wanna take you to this Cuban place downtown," he tells her with a grin. "They have really great food… oh, but uh, you don't mind cigar smoke do you?"

"Nope, especially not when I'm one of the people helping make it," she answers while squeezing her eyes shut with her deception.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more awesome," Dean quickly quips.

"I can meet you there at eight?" she suggests.

"I can pick you up…."

"No, it's fine," Lizzy tells him quickly. "I have to… head out and grab something to wear." She's so good at lying on the spot these days that it concerns her. "I would like to look a little more dressed up that a t-shirt and jeans."

"You could wear a trash bag and I'd be fine with it," Dean laughs a little.

"As long as you could take it off?" Lizzy jokes back.

"Oh, is that a promise?" he tries, loving the idea of getting her alone again. Their connection was massive and so good. He wants, no, he _needs_ that again before she leaves.

Lizzy swallows hard. "Text me the address."

"I can do that."

"Then I'll see you at eight on the dot, Dean."

"Looking forward to it," he tells her, ending the call and pocketing his phone with a stupid grin on his face.

"Dude, taking calls at work?" he gets asked and when he looks behind him he sees Johnny, his coworker, walking into the garage.

"Only if they're smoking hot," Dean smirks quickly.

"Should've known it'd be a girl to take you away from that beauty" Johnny says with a nod at the classic Dean's been working on while walking to the new Toyota next to the GTO that needs a simple oil change.

"It was a girl, alright. It was _the_ girl," Dean says to him with a knowing look.

"_The_ girl?" he asks with shock.

"Oh yeah. Met her last night at Breakers and dude… she's _awesome_."

"_The_ girl? _Awesome_? Man, what the hell are you talking about?" Johnny asks with a laugh, knowing Dean well enough at this point. He's bragged about girls before, and he's tried to deny a couple from his past too, but he never says such statements as this. _The girl_. Not from Dean Winchester.

"I'm talking about… this girl… she's perfect," Dean tells him, leaning into the grill of the GTO again. "Long dark hair, killer curves, an ass like you wouldn't believe. She's gorgeous."

"He ain't lying, man!" Rick says loudly and with sureness as he joins them from the backroom. "That chick was a smoke show. No joke. We don't see many that come through this way looking like that."

"No we don't," Dean says with a slight smile, his mind wandering as he stares off into space. He recalls the night before for about the hundredth time that day. She moved with sheer sex, her body working against his in shockingly perfect sync, like they were always meant to do that together. And her form, every inch of it, scars and all, was just mouthwateringly beautiful. And her skills, oh, her skills….

"Dean!"

"Hm?" he looks to Rick sharply and realizes then that the guy had been talking all the while flashes of last night's heavenly encounter preoccupied him. "Sorry, what?"

"Oh shit, man. You got it bad," Rick laughs in his friend's face with how he acts.

"No…."

"Bullshit!" Johnny calls out, now also laughing at Dean's expense as he gathers what he needs for the oil change.

"Hey, hold up. If anyone's got it bad, _she's_ got it bad," Dean brags a little. "The girl practically jumped me this morning after going at it… _twice_… the night before."

"Bullshit!" Johnny says again, this time with sheer disbelief.

"I swear on my car."

They both shut up with that as they know Dean would never do such a think unless he meant it.

"So not only is she hot and not only is she cool as hell to hang with… she was willing to fuck your sorry ass _three times_?" Rick asks with honest shock.

"She's a freakin' animal," Dean lets them know. "And I gotta tell ya… best sex of my life."

"Whoa! _Whoa_! Oh, hold on!" Johnny stops in his tracks, dropping the two quarts of oil he had on his grip on the work bench next to him. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asks, innocence in his tone as he ducks over the engine again, trying to hide a bit.

"You get more ass than the average public toilet seat, fair assessment?" Johnny asks.

"I do my share of damage," he smirks with slick confidence.

"So you've seen it all, assumingly… and you're calling an undisputed heavyweight champ?"

"Dude! _Lightweight_ champ," Dean corrects with insult. "I have standards."

"Sometimes," Rick laughs and Dean gives him a look of warning.

"Jesus," Johnny huffs and shakes his head. "Never thought I'd see the day a girl would finally get to you, Winchester."

"Get to me?" Dean challenges, standing tall again when he doesn't exactly love what he hears.

"You're practically buying a ring over there," Rick jumps in, loving a chance to rib his long time coworker and friend.

"Fuck off," Dean bitches and goes back to work, ignoring his friends out of frustration with them.

"Don't get mad because you're all in love now," Johnny keeps it up.

"I'm not in love, asshole," Dean name calls as his level of irritation grows. "She's just a rare… really cool girl. And she's moving on soon for work so she won't be hanging around much longer. Gotta get my time in while I can if you know what I mean." He winks, making it clear what he plans to do with said girl when he sees her.

"That why you're bothering to buy her dinner first?" Johnny asks.

"What!?" Rick lights up, head whipping over to Dean. "You're taking her out!?"

"He is," Johnny confirms. "I heard him ask her out. On an actual date."

"She's fucking cool!" Dean starts to get highly defensive. "And if either of you jackasses was given the time of day by her you'd be begging for a date with her so you can suck it. She's awesome. I'm buying her dinner. I'm gonna talk to her because she's cool as hell, and I'm gonna have better sex than either of you two will ever have in your entire lives all night before she leaves. Don't hate because you're jealous."

Neither says a word for a moment.

"Alright, man," Rick says, clapping Dean on the back. "Don't give yourself an aneurism. She honestly is the best you could ever do so I say good luck."

"Thanks… I think…." Dean responds, unsure if he's being insulted or complimented.

"Where you taking her?" Johnny asks, hitting the switch and raising the Toyota up to get to work.

"Mayumba," Dean answers, smiling a little as he knows she's going to enjoy the place.

"Nice. Chicks dig that place," Rick says, reading his mind. "Brought Cheri there last Valentine's Day. My rewards were plentiful." He laughs roughly at his own words.

"That's what I'm hoping for," Dean says despite that only being part of what he's looking for. He won't admit it to the guys at work but he's damn excited to get to know Lizzy better in general. He wants to know about where she's been, what her life is like, what her job actually is about, what her family is like, and just who she really is in general. There's a lot of mystery there and for once he doesn't like it that way.

He wants all of her he can get… and oddly it's not that scary to feel this way.

* * *

"When is this fucker gonna leave?" Lizzy asks with growing anxiety as she looks at the digital clock in the car. It's nearly 8:40 at night now and her phone is ringing for the seventh time. She doesn't check who's calling at this point. She knows who it is and he probably wants to know when she'll arrive for their date. As if standing Dean up didn't feel bad enough already...

"He'll leave soon," Garth says without a care in the world. His lack of anxiety in all situations has always bothered Lizzy during their three year partnership. He's just too Zen sometimes.

"If he doesn't we're screwed," she tells him with the appropriate amount of concern. "Dean'll be back soon. We don't have much time."

"Just chill out, LL. It'll all work out... Hey," he points to the front door of the small house Lizzy spent the previous night in. They both watch as John Winchester leaves his home and gets into his old, beat up truck. "See? What'd I say?"

"About God damn time," Lizzy says with relief as she pulls her gun from the back of her pants and checks that it's fully loaded.

"He's gonna be late for his shift," Garth mentions as he observes John driving away.

"Who gives a shit?" Lizzy wonders, replacing the gun at her back and then unsnapping the closure on her sheathed demon-killing knife at her hip.

"Have Betty with you?"

Face dropping with a total lack of amusement, Lizzy looks at him annoyed. "Stop calling my knife Betty."

"That ain't _your_ knife," he rolls his eyes.

"Yes it is," she says curtly and opens the passenger door.

"You _stole_ it from a demon," he reminds her.

"Exactly. Now it's mine. Keep the engine running," she requested and shuts the door quietly behind her.

Running silently down the street from the few houses down that they were, she makes her way up the lawn of the Winchester's small house. She can see a light on in one of the bedrooms on the right side. Sam's the only one home. Perfect.

Using her lock pick to open the back door through the kitchen, Lizzy slinks in silently, recalling her knowledge of the layout she got from being there last night. She then pockets her pick and reaches for her Glock, using both hands to steady her aim while entering and traveling through the home.

At the end of the very small hallway are two doors, one with light flooding out from under it. Light on, house silent... Sam must be studying. Great. She feels guiltier now with the reminder of the good and driven person he is.

She knew she had to do this. The future of the damn planet might depend on it. But that doesn't make it easier to possibly cut a kid down in the prime of his life. She knew going in that she might chicken out, no matter how hard she tried to be tough about it.

Hand on the doorknob of the bedroom door, Lizzy takes a deep breath. He's not a human, at least not fully. He's a monster…. No he's not. He just a kid. A kid that has the _potential_ to be a monster. There's a massive difference.

Stop it. This _has_ to be done… even if she doesn't think she can do it.

She counts slowly to herself.

One...

Two...

"Hey, Sammy!"

_Shit!_

Hearing Dean's voice call out right before the kitchen door she just came through shuts hard behind him, she panics. Fucking terrible timing. She runs quietly into the bathroom to hide while wondering what the hell happened with Garth's lookout skills. No honk to warn her!? No phone call!? He's going to die….

"Dean?" Sam questions with surprise as he sits at his desk surrounded by text books. He can hear the footsteps heading towards him so he yells out, "Come on in."

Dean opens Sam's bedroom door and leans into the doorway while looking at his brother. "Hey."

"What happened?" Sam asks as he checks his watch, it being far too early and Dean being far too alone.

"Got stood up. Do you believe it?"

Sam can hear the total misery Dean's feeling after being blown off by this one girl. He's hurting. "Kinda."

"Bitch," Dean calls him with a slight smile and some downright disappointment.

"I thought you said you two hit it off?"

Lizzy smiles to herself as she stands in the tub with her gun in hand. They did hit it off. She still likes him too.

"I thought we did," Dean admits easily. "We... connected. I thought. I was so sure. Eh, who the hell knows?"

"Maybe your easy one night stand just wanted you for an easy one night stand then?" Sam challenges with a smirk.

"Who would have thought?" Dean laughs at Sam's point. "Should've seen it coming, right?"

Sam knows how sad his brother is about all this. The way he talked about Lizzy all day was something new. He hoped for better for his difficult older brother this time, especially since he actually wanted to go on a real date.

"Her loss, man," Sam says with complete sincerity.

And Lizzy could cry at this. It truly is her loss.

"Yeah... I guess," he replies, pushing off the doorframe while knowing that in the long run it's actually _his_ loss. "Wanna beer?"

"Uh..." Sam looks at his books and makes a quick decision. "Yeah. Let's watch a crappy action flick or something."

"Seriously?" Dean asks with pure hope.

"Yeah, man. I got enough done. Need to take a break before I go crazy."

"See. You _are_ smart," he points at his little brother with a smile despite his shitty night. "Grab some beers. I'm gonna hit the head."

"Deal," Sam says with excitement and they part ways to start their brothers-staying-in night.

And then Lizzy's heart starts exploding with worry when she hears the bathroom door open and close followed by the toilet seat clinking up. She presses a hand over her mouth to keep quiet as Dean relieves himself. What the fuck does she do now?

As he stands there, Dean reflects on the disappointment of the night. He was stood up by the only chick he's never wanted to ever get stood up by. She was quick, smart, absolutely hot as hell, and worst of all the sex they had was some of the very best he's ever experienced. But she clearly didn't feel the same so in reality he's losing out. He really looked forward to hanging out with her again and getting to know her better. How could he have seriously read this so damn wrong?

"At least I got Sammy," he quietly chuckles to himself as he flushes and zips up. He turns to leave, ready to hang out with his little brother, which is honestly the very best consolation prize he could ask for despite how lame it sounds, when he catches the shower curtain move just a little out of the corner of his eye.

He freezes. It moved. He knows it did. Checking the window he can see that it isn't open. No draft. What the fuck?

Lizzy knows she fucked up. Her foot slipped on the tub, still wet from the last shower taken, and she nudged the curtain slightly with her knee. And now he's not leaving the bathroom like she'd hoped he would. He noticed. She takes aim with a deep breath.

Dean slowly walks up to the shower curtain, nervous now. He knows something's happening. He grabs the edge of the shower curtain and closes his eyes. This is stupid. It's nothing. He's worrying over nothing. But still he has to check. He counts to three silently in his head.

One...

Two...

Three!

He rips open the curtain swiftly and comes face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"Don't move!" Lizzy shouts at him without thinking.

"Whoa!" he shouts with shock when he sees someone pointing a gun at him. His heart pounds and he holds his hands up out of instinct, palms to her, to show surrender. Then he looks at who's behind the gun. "_Lizzy_!?"

"Shut up!" she harshly whispers, trying to stay unknown by at least one person in the house but it's too late.

"Dean! You ok?" They hear Sam call out just as he rounds the corner into the bathroom to check on the commotion. "Shit! Whoa!" he shouts in the same manner as Dean when he sees the weapon.

"Ok! Relax!" Lizzy talks over the moment and takes control, shifting her eyes between the two men, the gun now trained on Sam. "Everyone relax a second here!"

"What the hell are you doing here!?" Dean punches out, his head a total jumble as he steps in front of Sam out of unrecognized instinct. "Why the fuck do you have a gun!?"

"Uh, well… it's a long story?" she says in question form, her anxiety ruling her entire being.

"Isn't this the chick you slept with last night!?" Sam shouts when he recognizes the girl from that morning.

"Yeah," Dean answers simply, eyes never leaving Lizzy's. They're locked on one another, green with total confusion and sheer hurt while brown has nothing but panic and apology.

"Nice choice," Sam sarcastically informs him from the doorway, Dean standing directly in front of him now. "Another psycho."

"Both of you shut up a second!" Lizzy tries to cut in but they don't listen.

"She's not a psycho," Dean replies with insult, not listening to the woman with the gun. He trusts she won't shoot her. "She's... she's just standing me up while holding me at gun point in my own house... I guess."

"Wow, do you know to pick 'em," Sam bitches without effort

"Ok, shut up!" Lizzy shouts, needing to regain control. "Shit! Alright, I'm... everyone just... head to the living room. Now!"

* * *

**Author's Note: I just wanted to give a huge thanks to a reviewer that has Private Messaging turned off. SPNFan... THANK YOU! You have been reviewing every chapter as a guest and I can never respond to you. Normally I reply to each and every review, sometimes getting into interesting conversations with readers. I just never have the chance to say I appreciate the time you take to always read and review. Just know I am thankful!**


	40. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 3)

The tension is thick and stuffy in the room. The presence of a gun generally does such a thing. However, Lizzy's tension has absolutely nothing to do with the weapon in her hand. Instead it has everything to do with the man she's been nonstop thinking about sitting on the couch next to the man that is the supposed leader of the demon uprising.

"Garth! Get your ass in here now!" Lizzy screams with fury into the phone that she's holding to her ear, her Glock aimed at the Winchester men with her other hand, both with their hands in their laps and fully visible just as she demanded.

Dean and Sam share frightened and confused glances now and then, completely unaware of what it is that's happening.

"I could fucking kill you," she continues with a sharp edge. "Everything's gone to shit. Get in here now and clean up your mess!"

She ends the call and shoves her phone into her back pocket with fury. With a deep sigh, she closes her eyes to compose her thoughts for a second, everything such a mess that she doesn't know what to do now. It would have been so easy if Dean hadn't come home.

"Lizzy?"

Dean's voice cuts through her rambling thoughts and she lifts her eyelids to look at him. With his palms out, his back ridged with fright along with wide eyes pleading to her, she wants to throw up suddenly.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks her in a small, even tone.

She opens her mouth to answer and can't at first. It's too hard to explain and she has no idea what to even say about it all, where to start.

"I know what she's doing," Sam says very quietly, making both other people snap their focus onto him.

"What?" Lizzy asks, a new level of worry in her voice.

"She's here to kill me," Sam tells Dean before turning his attention to Lizzy. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"What… I… uh, ha," Lizzy laughs nervously. She bites her lip and figures what the hell. "How did you know?"

"You were gonna kill my brother!?" Dean shouts at her with audacity, standing up and taking all of one maddened step towards her.

"Sit down!" she booms out, her volume much bigger than a woman her size should create. Dean listens when she trains the gun specifically on him, getting the message that she's in charge. He plops back down but doesn't lose his voice. He may not know her well but he knows her enough. He can speak and she won't hurt him. He can just feel it.

"What the fuck, Liz?" Dean asks. "What the fuck is going on?"

"It's a very long story…."

"Then start talking!" Dean fires out, still beyond pissed off.

"Alright, let's do this!" Garth marches into the room with his Berretta out jarringly, aiming it right at Sam's forehead and lacking all composure whatsoever.

"No!" Dean yells out instantly, standing up again and getting right in front of his little brother, willing to take any amount of bullets for him. "You touch him and you die! I swear!"

"Garth, god fucking damn, man!" Lizzy scolds him and presses a hand down on the barrel of Garth's gun, making him lower it. "What is that!?"

"You said I had to clean up my mess…."

"Tactless ass!" Lizzy calls him and yanks his gun out of his hand. As quickly as a professional assassin, she grips both her Glock and Garth's Berretta and aims one at each brother. "Everyone shut the hell up! You two sit your asses down!"

The men in the room all listen, her command strong. Dean sits back down, both brothers keep their hands in sight, and Garth stands by her side without a peep.

Staring at Sam, Lizzy starts in. "Dean, don't say a fucking word. I have to ask Sam some things."

"But I…."

Lizzy cocks the Beretta with a cold stare and Dean immediately silences himself with the metal click. She looks back at Sam.

"Sam Winchester… did your mother die when you were six months old?"

"Yes," Sam answers, his forehead furrowed with confusion as he does.

"On the day you turned six months?"

"Yeah..."

"In a house fire?"

"Yes. How did you know that?"

"Was there anything weird about that night… besides the fire?" she keeps going, not answering his curiosity.

"Weird?" Sam questions. "I… how would I know? I wasn't even one yet."

"I mean," Lizzy sighs. "Was there anything odd about how your mother died?"

"Uh… I don't get it…." he keeps up with his total confusion.

"Sam. Did anyone see anything strange that night?"

"Yes," Dean answers quickly and meekly, his eyes darting around the room with discomfort.

"Dean?" Sam questions him quietly, shocked that Dean would speak up on the subject.

"Say it," Lizzy calmly demands of Dean. "I already know what you're about to say so…."

"How could you?" Dean wonders with sheer disbelief.

"You're not alone, ok?" she says to him, getting a truly disbelieving expression in return. "I need you to tell me what you saw. I'll believe you, not matter how crazy, alright? Just trust me."

"Trust you!?" Dean asks with anger growing. "Is that a fucking joke!? Because it ain't that funny!""

With a crestfallen look, she can feel the pain in her heart with his hatred aimed at her. "I don't expect you to be able to have any trust whatsoever in me after how this has turned out. But please, be honest with me now. If you do… I'll do my best to leave and never bother you again."

At this very moment, as much as never seeing her again would hurt, he'd be glad for that. "Mom was…. When she died, she… she was…." He huffs a laugh. "Dad never believed me."

With eyes bulging out of his eye sockets, Sam's in total shock. He has no idea what his own brother is talking about.

"But I will." Lizzy peers at him hard in the eye.

Even though he shouldn't, Dean feels a kindship with her. He feels safe and he does feel like she'll believe him. "She was… on the ceiling."

Sam gazes at his brother in horror with what he's saying.

"I saw mom pinned to the ceiling… of Sammy's room," Dean tells her. "The fire started there. She was bleeding and… fuck." He washes a hand down his face with frustration, looking to prevent any tears over the worst memory he has.

"Shit," Lizzy complains, lowering the guns. It's true. She knew it was, the research didn't lie, but she had the smallest of hope in her that she could walk away from this without killing anyone. She likes these men. She's liked others that were marked by Yellow Eyes that she and Garth have found before Sam too… but they turned. And she's tired of killing or seeing them get themselves killed.

"What does that all mean?" Sam asks her. "And why did you know about that? And why are you here to kill me? Is it because of mom?"

"No. I doesn't have anything to do with your mother. We think she was a victim of time and place. But I have one more question," Lizzy says to him. "Sam, how did you know why I was here?"

And now it's Sam turn to get awkward and look at Dean guiltily. "I have these dreams…."

"Great," Lizzy shakes her head with the news. "Just fucking… great."

"What? What's wrong with his dreams?" Dean panics a bit, turning to Sam. "What's wrong with your dreams?"

"So you dreamed me showing up here?" Lizzy questions further, ignoring the alarmed older brother. "You already saw it?"

"Yes."

"You're having psychic visions," Lizzy nods. "How many have you had?"

"About you?"

"Sure."

"Three," Sam answers. "And in all three you came in here, took me off guard while studying, talked to me, didn't like what I had to say, and… I took one right between the eyes. Everything goes black and I wake up."

"So you _knew_ me when you saw me this morning," Lizzy guesses with a sneaking suspicion.

"No. Well… kind of. You looked pretty familiar but the visions were kind of blurry… or jumbled. I wasn't sure," Sam explains.

"Have you had any other visions besides of me?"

"No. Not that I remember."

"Damn it," Lizzy says and turns away from the group, looking out the living room's dusty window to avoid the group if only for a second. Only one vision. One of her. One that was clearly meant to warn him. No other visions. He's damn near squeaky.

"So is this where you shoot me?" Sam asks, defiance mixed with fear strangely combining in his tone.

"Over my dead body!" Dean declares with sureness. "She's not fucking touching you!"

She listens to the two voices but doesn't respond. She closes her eyes and thinks. Before she met Andy, she and Garth had a plan for this mess they stumbled upon. In and out. Don't think about it. Don't hesitate. Just save the world from ultimate pain and suffering. But Andy changed all that once they met him and realized he wasn't bad at all… and now she's not so sure she can do this anymore.

After meeting Dean and seeing just how much he loves his brother… and just how innocent and good they both are… she's sure she can't do this.

"LL, you good?" Garth asks quietly with a hand on her shoulder when she's been in her own head too long.

"I can't," she whispers to herself as a single tear drops down her cheek. She's too caring. She's too warm and she's too easily attached to people to continue on. She told Bobby this and he promised she never needed to do any of it. He knew guys who could handle it. She insisted, saying this was her discovery so it was her burden. But now? She wasn't made for this at all.

"What?" Garth asks.

But she doesn't answer him. Instead she turns sharply around and faces the two brothers, both flinching with her quick movement, her hands still clutching two guns.

"Oh God! I'm…." Reminded of the weapons she's welding, Lizzy immediately puts the safety on both and places them on the end table nearest her. "No. No, no. I, I can't do this. I'm so sorry." She wipes a hand down her face and rids it of tears as she loses it. "I'm not killing anyone. I'm not. I'm… I don't even to know what to say. I'm sorry, Sam. I really am."

"What the hell?" Sam asks with audacity with her sudden 180 turn around.

"Lizzy?" Dean says her name and they look to each other, holding that stare for a split second. "Clearly you know something we don't. About our family. So tell us… what's happening here?" He asks in a sincere tone, showing that he somehow still trusts her. Call it gut instinct. He just knows she won't lie.

She's already sure she's about to ruin their lives with the truth, there's no way she isn't, and the guilt of that hits hard.

"We need to talk," Lizzy tells him. "And I need some whiskey. Please."

* * *

Settled around the oval kitchen table, Lizzy slugging back her third shot of Jim Beam in roughly three minutes, she breathes deeply and lets it out. When she looks around her she sees her good friend and partner Garth sitting silently and waiting for her to be ready and two very anxious brothers.

"Ok, so…." She looks between the two new-to-her men before settling on Dean. "I didn't totally lie to you. About being in pest control."

"Alright…." he shrugs, not caring about her occupation label.

"I just never disclosed how big my pests are. There are things out there… big, nasty things that can and do kill good, innocent people every day."

"Like?" Sam asks, curiosity fully peaked.

"Like everything you were told wasn't in the shadows," she begins. They stare at her blankly. "Think of the classics. Ghosts. Vampires. Werewolves. Witches. Shapeshifters… even demons. They're real. Very real. All of them."

"That's ridiculous," Sam tells her without hesitation, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lizzy nods, having been ready for this reaction. No one thinks differently at first. Yet she notices that Dean says nothing. He just keeps his tumbler of whiskey between his hands, elbows on the table, and eyes glued to her as he listens. She had hope that he wouldn't dismiss her right off. Thankfully it looks like she was right.

"If someone just came into my house five years ago and told me the same thing I would've call it ridiculous too," she responds.

"Clearly…." Sam starts to say but she cuts him off.

"But that changed the night a demon killed my entire family right in front of me."

No one speaks. Her words floor the men too much to speak. Her entire family is dead? At the hands of a demon?

When Sam regains his voice he simply enough says, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm a hunter. That's what we call ourselves," Lizzy dives in as she stares at her empty glass. "We hunt all the things that go bump in the night. I got into it when I was forced to find out about the truth behind the real world we live in when my family…." She swallows hard and foregoes the rest of that sentence. "Most people get to live in this blissful ignorance, never once knowing the pain of encountering what's out there. They're the lucky ones. We unlucky ones don't get to live like that. We know too much. But all those lucky ones stay lucky because people like Garth and I help keep it that way."

"So… you're claiming that the supernatural is an actual thing?" Sam, the man of science, asks.

"Yes. Because it is," Lizzy tells him. This conversation is so uncomfortable for her. She never wanted to have to bring anyone into this world of hers. She wants none of this life for anyone else. This is awful.

"And you expect us to believe that?" Sam nearly scoffs.

"No, we don't," Garth backs her up. "But Sam, compadre, she's telling the truth. We both have seen our share of the scary and it's taken some very important people from us. It's all real."

"Very real," Lizzy tacks on heavily, reaching for the bottle of Beam in the middle of the table and pouring yet another healthy dose for herself. She takes a big sip and prepares to get deep and honest to help prove herself to them. She failed in her mission and now owes them at least an explanation as to what she was trying to do, especially to Sam with his fate. "Summer after my junior year of high school a demon came into my house in the middle of the night. It locked us all in our bedrooms. We couldn't get away." She keeps her focus on her glass as she can never seem to look anyone in the eye when she tells this story. "It started with my parents'. It killed them quickly, my mother only screaming once before… she was gone. Then it moved on to Derek, my brother. The youngest. My sister and I shared a room next to his. We were locked in there together and we were pounding on the door, trying to get out, to help him… but all we could hear were his screams. I don't know what it did to him… I don't ever want to know what it did to my baby brother. But he was crying and screaming for my mom and dad… for me. I still have nightmares where I can hear him screaming out to me." She wipes her eyes when the tears start to fall but she plows through, keeping it together enough to tell it all. "And the only sound that could possibly be worse than Derek's voice in pain… was the demon's laugh. It laughed the entire time. It just… _cackled_, like it was amused. It enjoyed every second of what it did and that was the day I knew that evil, _pure_ evil… is real. It's _very_ real." She pauses to compose herself. "God, he was only eight years old. He was so scared."

Lizzy looks away from the table and succumbs to the memories. It feels like yesterday still. And it hurts more than ever. A hand over her eyes, she sobs quietly to herself with Garth's hand rubbing her upper back in support.

"You don't have to keep going, Lizzy," her partner tells her.

"I do. They need to understand. I owe that to them," she chokes out but can't stop crying. Her family, her happy and loving family, is gone. It's a wound that won't go away, no matter how much evil she kills and how much revenge she takes.

Lizzy flinches when she can feel a larger hand slip under hers and pry it off of her glass. It grips tightly and when she looks she can see the honest concern in Dean's gaze as he holds her hand. With his support she finds it easier somehow. Easy enough to keep speaking.

"The whole time my little sister was just… sobbing on the floor. Then right after the sobbing stopped she was panicked, in shock. She needed me to save her so… I opened one of the windows in our room and shoved anything soft out onto the backyard two stories down. Blankets, pillows, a bean bag chair, clothes… everything I could think of. I then pulled Lou off the floor and to the window… to push her out." She starts to cry again. "But the demon got in. It kicked down the door. When I saw it… he was in our neighbor, Dennis…."

"_In_ your neighbor?" Sam interrupts.

"Demons ride human hosts," Garth explains quickly. "They possess people and take over their bodies to do their will. It's the only way they can walk the Earth and act out their… fucked up ways."

"His eyes were black and he was cover in blood… my family's… blood," she pushes on. "It was on his shirt, all over his hands and his… _mouth_. He dove for us and I couldn't get her out of the window in time. It grabbed her first. I couldn't stop it," she once more covers her eyes. "I saw it… start to…." She hums with sorrow and stops there, shaking her head. "It should've been me."

This is where Garth leans over to her and whispers something in her ear that Sam and Dean can't hear. She just nods at him, some kind of bond there that they can't possibly understand, and she takes a deep breath to keep going.

"So… I dove out the window. I left her behind. I fucking left my sister… my fucking best friend, I left her behind," she shakes her head with still running regret and pushes on. "I landed on the ground hard, separated my shoulder and broke three ribs. I then ran to the street, just panicked and ran. About a block away a car stopped next to me and a guy with a beard and trucker hat scooped me up, tossed me in the backseat of his crappy junker as I screamed and tried to kick him. He was a hunter. He and his partner tracked the demon to my house but they were too late. Those hunters saved my life but my family… they were all gone."

"That's how you got into hunting?" Dean asks but it sounds more like a statement. "You wanted to get some payback for your family?" He never lets go of her hand.

"I didn't want another person to feel what I've been forced to feel ever again," she tells him with sad eyes. "This feeling? This _loss_… I'll _never_ be the same ever again. And after that? I couldn't live my life knowing those things are out there, ripping people to shreds, and not do a damn thing about it."

"But if your job is to kill evil things… then why were you here to kill me?" Sam asks when he sees what the world might actually be despite never having seen it himself. "I'm not evil."

"Yet," she says in a tiny, regretful voice.

"What!?" Sam asks, a new panic in his tone.

"The hell does that mean?" Dean adds in as he takes his hand back.

Lizzy wipes her eyes with her hands and hunches her back before reaching for her whiskey glass again. "What we do… isn't easy."

"Sometimes we have to get a little… primal, if you will," Garth says, folding his hands together and placing them on the table, squaring off to the brothers. "And when we caught ourselves a demon some months back we used some skills we have to get it to talk."

"Skills? What skills?" Dean asks, curiosity peaked.

"You don't want to know," Lizzy tells him with shame, ducking her head after another big sip. Torture was her least favorite part of the job. She was never very good at it, her kind sensibilities getting in the way. "But we got it talking and… it told us some things that we weren't exactly looking for but were pretty big."

"He told us of a high ranking demon, Azazel," Garth takes over.

"Like… the Church of Azazel?" Sam questions, remembering hearing about a religious group in New York City that focused on satanic worship.

"Bingo," Garth nods.

"He's a real demon?" Sam has to be sure.

"Oh yeah, man. He's one of the first demons Lucifer made. Old school power and one scary mo-fo. He's been hatching a plan for decades now and the demon spilled the beans on a good amount of it."

"Azazel," Lizzy tells them, "Or we call him Yellow Eyes..."

Garth cuts Lizzy off. "On account of his eyes being yellow."

"Thank you, Garth," Lizzy says without any real sarcasm. "He's been hell bent on creating the next demon army. We think he wants to complete Lucifer's mission."

"Of?" Dean asks.

"Hell on earth. Armageddon," Lizzy answers, the air getting sucked out of the room with that. "And he needs a leader of that army."

"Why doesn't he just do it?" Sam questions.

"We're not sure, honestly," Lizzy says. "But my theory is that he needs the leader to be human… or at least mostly human. Born human but not fully turned demon."

"Alright… well, assuming all this is real and not some hoax or something… I ask again; what does this have to do with me?" Sam keeps wondering, his heart dropping further with each given nugget of information.

"Almost twenty-two years ago now Azazel visited a lot of houses in the middle of the night," Lizzy keeps explaining. "We don't know how or why he focused on each house that he did exactly. We just know that every time he did so it was on the youngest in the house's six month birthday."

Sam and Dean go pale. Their mother died on Sam's six month birthday.

"No one knows for sure what he did to those six month olds, not even demons seem to know for sure, but he affected them. He gave them an ability that wouldn't fully develop until they were somewhere between twenty-one or twenty-two years old. In most cases that we've been able to track, Azazel also went the extra mile on his visits, setting fire to the houses he was in and killing the mother of the six month old by pinning her to the ceiling and… burning her." The last part was painful to say because they all know this is exactly what happened in the Winchester household all those years before.

The room shuts down. Only the sound of whiskey sipping and glasses moving can be heard. The processing of such information is big and daunting, neither brother ready to know about any of this.

"Sam… I need you to know that my plan was to prevent hell on Earth," Lizzy speaks up after some time. "I felt wrong about it the entire time. You seem like a truly good person. A really good person. Just pure hearted… so I had hoped I was wrong all along."

"Are you wrong about me?" he has to know.

"No," Lizzy sadly tells him. "I was right. You were targeted, you have a power given to you by evil… but _you're_ not evil. You aren't. We've met a few… that couldn't handle the powers given to them. They were weak people, damaged and unkind deep down. I feel like you fit into the other category."

"That's good to know," Dean says, giving her a bit of a dirty look. "Especially since you were here to off him otherwise."

"Pretty sure I was gonna chicken out," Lizzy huffs depressively.

"Not comforting," Dean tells her before sighing with a long blink of his eyes. "Well now I gotta know…."

"What?" she asks, scared to hear his question.

"Last night. Was that all part of the plan?" he wonders, clearly hoping he's wrong in his assumptions. "Did you use me to get closer to Sam, plan this out?"

"Oh, god no," she says to him, placing her hand on top of one of his with promise. "Dean, I had no idea you were Sam's brother. I didn't even know your last name until I saw it on an envelope on your refrigerator this morning."

He just narrows his eyes, trying to figure out if she's lying or not.

"It's the truth," she swears to him. "I almost keeled over when Sam came out of his room this morning. I had no idea. I promise."

Dean nods, accepts this answer, but takes his hand back. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest. "Hell of a coincidence."

"No shit," Garth laughs. "Girl went crazy when she got back this morning. She was all kinds of freaked."

"I think I knew then that I was never gonna be able to pull this off," she admits. "Couldn't do it."

"So what now?" Sam asks the two hunters. "I mean, what do I do? Do I just go dark side one day? Just sit here and wait for it to happen!?"

"No. No fucking way. We'll tell you everything you need to know," Lizzy says to him. "We have all our research with us at our motel. We'll get it for you tomorrow and teach you about what we know is happening. We already met someone like you and let him go after informing him of everything."

"And?" Sam wonders.

"He's managing just fine. No evil. Just a sweet, all be it lost, guy."

"So… you let one of us go already?" Sam asks, the hope sparking in the back of his tone is clear as day.

"Oh yeah," Garth nods quickly. "Andy's a stand up dude. Got a killer van, rolling through town on his own time… he's got a sweet set up."

"He has visions in his dreams too?"

"No. He has the full on Obi Wan," Garth explains with jealousy. "He can control peoples' thoughts, make them do whatever he wants them to…."

"And he's just running around with that!?" Dean asks with shock.

"He has a very solid handle on it," Lizzy assures.

"How do you know?"

Lizzy smiles warmly. "Dean, I promise… we're really good at what we do…."

"You fucked up _this_," he points out to her. "Sam should be dead if you got this plan of yours right."

"We're pretty good… though I don't think Sam would be dead either way. I told you, I wouldn't have been able to do it," Lizzy huffs a laugh and moves on quickly. "But with Andy? We checked him out, saw he wasn't doing anything wrong, got to know him for a few days, and then let him go. After that we followed him for three days to be sure he wasn't putting on a front. He wasn't. He convinced people to give up their morning coffees and got dates with women way out of his league every night but… long haul? He's not dangerous. And he's well aware of everything that he is. We told him everything."

"We keep tabs on him, too," Garth tacks on. "I call him once a week, check in, make sure his head's right and nothing's been after him. And we check the papers from his area all the time to make sure he's got his nose clean. So far, three months in… everything is copasetic."

"Actually… he and Garth have become really good friends," Lizzy says lightly.

"Brother from another mother," Garth smiles.

With that Lizzy sighs heavily yet again, blowing out a large breath and pressing her fingertips into her forehead, elbows to the tabletop. She can't look at the Winchesters at the moment with the massive bomb she's dropped on them… and the assassination attempt she looks to have just attempted. She's upset, mad, saddened… and horrendously guilty.

"I'm sorry, guys," she says to them, a little choked up again. "I'm sorry this happened to your family. And I'm sorry we had to tell you." She peers up at Sam specifically. "And I'm so sorry that you have to go through this, Sam. I really am."

"Well… I guess you're not gonna kill me now?" he questions her.

Shaking her head, she promises, "I was never… I know how this looks and I know you probably won't believe me, and really you shouldn't… but I wasn't gonna kill you. I wasn't going to be able to do it."

"But that was the plan," Sam says with certainty.

"Yes," Lizzy stays honest.

"Fine, but… if you let Andy go… why was I different?" Sam has to know. "Clearly you thought you couldn't do the same with me. You never planned to try. Why?"

Dean looks back and forth between his little brother and Lizzy a couple times, waiting for an answer.

"Can I explain that tomorrow? When we bring our research?" Lizzy requests with something awfully tired in her words. The whiskey combined with the adrenaline of the plan going wrong and the emotional toll of everything she just confessed has her nearly asleep in her kitchen chair. "It'll be easier that way. It'll make more sense."

"So what? You just expect me to head to my room, get a good night's sleep after everything you just told me, and act like nothing happened?" Sam challenges with disbelief.

"That's exactly what you're gonna do," Dean jumps in there, giving Sam the same hard look he did all the time growing up when Sam needed to do something he didn't necessarily want to for his own benefit. "If you have more studying to do you should get to it and then rest up."

"It's Saturday, Dean… And seriously? After everything they just told us you think…."

"Sammy, stop it. Go get some rest, man. Tomorrow sounds like it's gonna be pretty shitty already. Least you can do is catch a couple hours." He raises his eyebrows at his little brother, telling him not to fight this.

"I almost got shot in the head, Dean!"

"You weren't gonna get shot in the head, Sam." Dean rolls his eyes and washes a hand down his face with frustration. "Look, you're safe. I believe them."

"How can you be so sure!?" Sam nearly shouts.

With one look at Lizzy, their eyes meeting with truth and an open honesty that they both have with one another somehow very quickly, Dean knows for certain his brother is safe. "I just am. I trust them. I trust Liz."

"What!?"

"Sam! Do you really think I'd ever put you in any kind of danger?" Dean asks with insult.

Sam takes a second, thinking it through. After their lives have played out the way they have, no one has been there for him quite like Dean. Not even his own father. Dean would never risk Sam's life, ever. "Fine. I'll try to sleep. But I probably won't be able to."

"Just asking that you try," Dean says to him.

"We should get going anyways," Lizzy nods, killing the last of her whiskey in her glass and standing up, Dean mirroring with the glass he poured himself but never really finished. "We can come back early tomorrow. We don't need all that much sleep anyways."

"Call me on your way," Dean says, his voice both warm and cold when directed towards her right now. The conflict in him over this girl is insane, a war of wills battling hard. It's heart and instinct versus brain and factual knowledge.

"I will," she says, barely able to look at him as Garth leads the way to the side kitchen door, ready to leave.

"We'll see you men tomorrow," he salutes the brothers and leaves the house to start the car and get going.

Sam disappears down the hallway, unable to say goodnight, and that leaves Dean by the door as he watches Lizzy glance at him out of the corner of her eyes before turning to leave.

"Wait a second," Dean says, grabbing her elbow and stopping her. Lizzy pauses, her eyes looking to him before looking back at her shoes. He notices right away. "Can you look at me, please?"

"Kinda hard to right now," Lizzy answers, her shoes still in her line of vision.

"Liz, look at me," Dean sternly directs and she sighs, her head lifting to look right at him. Her eyes are watery.

"I'm sorry," she says to him. "I never meant for all this. I swear I didn't know you were his brother."

"I know you didn't," Dean assures her. "I didn't want to say anything this morning but I saw you go ghost when you first saw Sam come out of his room. Figured you were hung over and just got nauseous or something."

She sniffles and huffs a quiet laugh. "I usually am. And I was. But that wasn't it."

An awkward silence develops and Lizzy's eyes dart around the room. Dean shifts oddly on his feet as he tries to remember why it was he stopped her from leaving. He wanted to tell her something.

"I really wanted to go to dinner with you," Lizzy blurts out quickly. "I know I used your asking me out as a diversion to…." She doesn't finish that sentence. "But I wish it was different. I really wish I could have met you at that restaurant. I really wish…." Lizzy takes breath. "I just really wish."

His face full of hurt looks back at her and she has to leave. She can't deal with the disappointment she's handed him.

"Goodnight, Dean," she departs and walks out the door, closing it behind her.

"Night, Lizzy," Dean responds mostly to himself as he stares at the door.

It takes him a full ten minutes to gather his thoughts enough to walk away from that spot and sit down at the kitchen table again. He pours himself another, bigger glass of whiskey and starts to drink while mulling over the night.

When he sat there at that restaurant, waiting for the girl he'd somehow become quite captured by, he figured at first she was running late. Maybe she never found the outfit she wanted or something happened at work to prevent her from getting there on time. By quarter past eight he started to worry and gave her a call. By eight thirty he'd called her unanswered five times, his heart dropping by the second. By eight forty-five he was dropping cash on the table for his two bourbons and walking out the door more disappointed than he'd been in a long time… and that's saying something.

She got him. After just one night she had him all fucked up, thinking about her nonstop and so excited to see her again he was embarrassed by it. He tried to deny it, tell himself he's just found a chick that could hang for once, but no. He knew it was more. He just didn't know until she was in his house with a gun pointed at him. The disappointment of discovering her true purpose of being in their town wasn't just from finding out that something was possibly wrong with his brother. It came from finding out she wasn't what he thought she was. She's a whole different person. It feels like he lost her somehow.

And now he's left with what to do about Sammy. His life's work has been just that, what to do about his little brother. His mother died and at just four he was stuck with a spiraling father that didn't believe that he'd seen his mom die in the way she really did and a crying baby that needed everything with how helpless he was. All he did from the day his mother passed was concern himself with Sammy. Hell, once Sam was old enough to go to college and could take care of himself was the day Dean realized he never had any ambitions of his own. Dean was twenty-two, no higher education than a barely received high school diploma, and no idea what he was meant to do with his life. Sam just always came first. If Dean drifted his whole life then so be it… as long as Sammy had the best job and the best life then that was fine.

And now something is wrong with Sam and he doesn't know what to do about it. His father… fuck John. He's not even sure it's worth the bother of explaining everything to him. By the time he gets home at seven in the morning he'll probably be drunk enough to just pass out for most of the day anyways. Probably won't even hear when Garth and Lizzy come back over. And that's fine with him.

He can deal with this. Dean can figure this whole thing out and make sure Sam is safe from whatever the fuck is out there. He's not scared of demons… if they are in fact real, of course. He's not scared of the idea of vampires and ghosts either.

The only thing that scares him is the idea that something could be wrong with or could get to Sam.

Dean makes a snap decision right then and there. He knows what he has to do and he's going to do it if it kills him. Sam will live a good life and be safe. Nothing will stop that, Dean will make sure.

Pounding down his drink, Dean puts the used glasses in the sink and hides the whiskey bottle in the far back of the deepest kitchen cupboard, away from John's eyes. He then heads to his room and packs a bag. He stuffs his old hiking backpack to the gills with clothing, heavy boots, and anything else that's essential. He then slips a couple photos into the front, waterproof pocket, one of his mother and him and then one of Sam and him as kids. He drops the full bag at the bottom of the basement stairs before grabbing his comforter and pillow from his bed.

When Dean opens Sam's bedroom door slowly he finds the kid passed out hard, stomach down and drooling on his pillow. He could just tell Sam was worn out, much like he is. The comedown from an adrenaline high caused by being at gunpoint for a good amount of time is a harsh one.

He lays down on the floor, stretching across the carpet. He shoves a text book away to make room and settles in for the night. That's where he sleeps until he hears his dad shuffle in in the morning, heading straight for his room where he passes out just as Dean figured he would.


	41. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 4)

**Note: This chapter has been SLIGHTLY edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile. **

* * *

The quiet knock on the kitchen door makes Dean look over to it from the counter where he's brewing a pot of coffee at eight in the morning. He can see Lizzy through the window panes in the door and he can't help but smile. Even after everything he's still got a jump in his gut at seeing her. She's looking fresh as a daisy and ready for the day, her wide awake and bright chestnut brown eyes on him through the glass, despite her leaving around one last night. Dean barely slept so he's just about the opposite but by now he couldn't care less. Other pressing matters are far more important than sleep and appearance.

Walking over, Dean opens the door and comes face to face with Lizzy. "Morning."

"Good morning," she says quietly, a fully packed manila folder under her arm and her black studded purse hanging off her other shoulder. She has on a black leather moto jacket left unzipped, her bright red, tight t-shirt with just deep enough V-neck under it framing her figure wonderfully. She has a new pair of denim cutoff shorts on and a pair of very heavy looking military black boots that go just to mid-calf.

She looks good. Hell, she looks great.

Lizzy shifts on her feet with slight discomfort that Dean doesn't miss. He was looking too long.

"Come on in," he says, nodding for her to enter. She walks in and takes a few steps, turning to face him while standing in the middle of the kitchen. She bounces on her feet awkwardly, not having been alone with him since she ditched out on their date and then tried to kill his brother.

Awkward.

"Well… you look like you just got up," she observes, his sweatpants and t-shirt still on and bed head all messed up. "Sounded like I woke you up when I called this morning."

"Didn't fall asleep until late," Dean informs her. "Couldn't."

"Very understandable," she lets him know she gets it.

"But you look like you're ready for the day," Dean says to her, walking for the now brewed pot of coffee.

"I don't need all that much sleep," she says vaguely.

"Coffee?"

She has a flash of the day before when he asked her the same thing. Yesterday morning was wonderful. Today… is very different. "Please. Cream no sugar."

"Coming right up," Dean says evenly and nods to the table. "Sit down. Sam'll be out in a few."

Lizzy listens and sits in her seat from the night before. She sighs and glances at the family pictures on the refrigerator. Her presence in their lives proves how done moments like that are for them most likely. She feels that familiar guilt again.

"Dean, I'm sorry about all this…."

"Liz, stop," Dean says to her right off, knowing where her whole apology thing was going as he sits across from her with two mugs. He places one in front of her and keeps the other. "None of this is your fault. You're just… the messenger."

"Most people want to kill the messenger."

"Eh, I don't want to kill you." He pauses and sighs quietly to himself. "I'd rather kiss her," he very quickly and quietly says without thinking, taking a sip of coffee while looking away from her.

Lizzy's eyes widen with the response and Dean knows he needs to clarify.

"I just meant that I'm grateful that you came here."

"I was gonna possibly kill your little brother," she disbelieves.

"Yeah… but you didn't." He has a softened look on his face all of a sudden.

Lizzy smiles slightly at him. "Thank you for not wanting to kill me in return then."

Dean nods once and takes another sip of coffee, Lizzy following suit. He then eyes her quickly, knowing better than to say it but he does anyways. "Still wouldn't mind kissing you though."

She knows her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink as she looks away from him. He has that ability, to make her blush so easily. It's almost annoying. Almost….

"Is that strange?" Dean has to ask, knowing that after everything he should want to run and hide from her forever.

"Wicked strange," she laughs nervously as she spins her coffee mug. "But… I'm really glad you don't hate me." She looks at him with something innocent and very honest. "I, uh… I… like you, Dean."

"You like me?" Dean echoes back, smirking with her childish way of saying it.

"Yeah. A lot," Lizzy admits, knowing she shouldn't.

Dean nods with surprise, grateful that this wasn't all in his own head. "You're such a middle-schooler."

She shoots him an insulted face before smiling. "And you're kind of a dick, you know that?"

"Yeah… but you love it," he answer back, full blown smiling at her when all other problems in his life should make such a thing impossible.

Lizzy opens her mouth to tell him he's wrong (even if he isn't) when Sam makes his way down the short hallway in the small, one story house. The second he sees Lizzy he knows why Dean's smiling. He watches his older brother wipe the grin away in an instant but it wasn't fast enough to prevent him from seeing it. "Hey," Sam says quietly to Lizzy.

"Morning, Sam," she says bashfully, still weird around him after the previous night.

"Coffee's on," Dean tells him. "Grab some and sit down."

* * *

"That's everything," Lizzy says, finally after having yet another lengthy conversation. She's been pleasantly surprised by how well the Winchesters have taken the news. Neither freaked out completely, neither called the looney bin to commit her and Garth, so all in all it's been pretty good. She pushes a packed manila folder towards Sam, it bound by a large elastic to keep it all together. "I made copies of everything we have so you can keep that."

"Thanks," Sam says, brain already speeding a mile a minute as he pulls the elastic off and opens the cover. Starting back at him is his senior picture from his yearbook paper clipped to a stack of papers.

"That's the profile Garth and Bobby made on you before we got here," Lizzy explains. "There's a similar profile on each one of you guys that we've found over the past year. We haven't gotten to meet some of them just yet. Since you're the frontrunner we came to you fairly early."

Quickly Sam flips through each one, looking at names and faces as he goes. Ava Wilson, Jake Talley, Lily Baker, Andy Gallagher… he pauses when he gets to one profile with the name Ansem Weems. It has the word 'Deceased' written across the top in red sharpie marker. He pulls the profile and holds it up, pointing to the red writing. "He's dead?"

Lizzy bites her lip for a second from across the table, the two brothers looking at her expectantly. "Yes."

"How?" Sam questions, his voice lowered with fear.

"He was a danger to everyone around him," Lizzy says. "He'd… killed some people…."

"What!?" Dean asks. "He killed people!?"

"He… succumbed to the darkness he was given," Lizzy says cautiously. "He used his powers for evil, exacting revenge on people that had kept him from his brother. Andy was his twin brother."

The confused stares she receives makes her go on.

"It's a long story," Lizzy pops in there, not needing to give the complete history. "Andy and Ansem were separated at birth when their mother gave them up. Ansem figured it out and was pissed about being separated. He started killing those responsible for separating them by using his gift… which was the same as Andy's."

"The Obi Wan thing?" Dean asks, having remembered from the night before.

"Yes," Lizzy nods. "In the end, Ansem went way far off the rails and… Andy killed him when Ansem went after me. He saved my life. Andy is not a killer. He's a good guy stuck in a shit circumstance… kinda like you, Sam."

"You don't even know me," Sam reminds her.

"But I've been doing this for a while now," she counters. "I can tell when someone is good, so can Garth. I saw it right away. Garth will see it too."

Sam doesn't know what to say. He just lowers his head and looks at the last profile while Dean looks over his shoulder next to him, another red 'Deceased' at the top of it. "What happened to Max Miller?" He holds up that profile, seeing Lizzy flinch when she gets an eyeful of the sad looking guy in the picture.

"Max was an unfortunate case," she answers, still saddened by the way everything went down with this particular one. "Max… he had a tough life. His father and uncle abused him. They beat the crap out of him regularly. God, he had a _terrible_ life." Her anger is clear. "Because of that, Max used his power of controlling inanimate objects through ESP to kill his family for revenge. By the time we got to him it was too late. He killed himself. With my gun. That I should never have let him get," Lizzy says sternly, her eyes lowered as they always are when shamed by something. "He couldn't handle everything his family had done to him."

"Is that the link?" Dean questions, seeing a clear line between the two dead profiles.

"What's the link?" Lizzy questions.

"Well, family problems," Dean points out all too easily. He saw it right off the bat. "Ansem and Max both resented their families for what they did to them. They got revenge for it. So… is that, like, a trigger or something?"

Lizzy, jaw slightly dropped, grabs both profiles of the deceased men and looks at them side by side on the table. She reads them over, flipping through the pages and considering Dean's perspective.

"None of the others had any family issues," Lizzy says to herself. "Jake, Ava, Andy… they were happy people in life, good families. At least from what we could see…." She looks up at Dean. "Maybe you should be on this side of the table, man," she laughs. Dean just smiles slightly, not sure how to take that. "Now I gotta know… how has your family life been?"

Both falter with the question, unsure of where to start.

"I know that's a heavy question and I am diving in real personal… but I need to know," Lizzy says. "Sam's fate might kind of depend on the answer."

"It's been bumpy," Dean cautiously says. "We haven't exactly had it easy after mom. Dad didn't take it so well."

"He's a drunk," Sam says, showing his distaste for the man.

"He did his best," Dean quickly counters, sticking up for the poor man.

"Stop defending him, Dean," Sam complains, angry with his older brother. "You're whole life you've defended him for no reason. If dad wanted to do his best he wouldn't have been completely wasted for the past twenty years."

"Losing mom wasn't easy!" Dean turns it around immediately. "If I was old enough to drink when she died then… hell, I might be just like him."

Sam clenches his jaw, giving one annoyed face at Dean before turning to Lizzy. "Dean raised me. My dad has been a shitty dad at best. He's a drunk that can barely hold down a job and all through my childhood I was either avoiding him, watching him sleep during a total black out, wondering where he was for days on end when on a bender, or hiding in my closet when he'd get so blind drunk that he needed to take his anger out on someone."

Dean wishes he had a rebuttal for this but he doesn't. Instead he sips his black coffee and avoids the room, looking out the window over the sink.

"Dean made the dinners," Sam keeps going, well aware of who it was that gave him everything in life. "He helped me with homework. He's the one that went out grocery shopping at ten years old and spent his teenage years driving me around to soccer and honor society meeting and working every free hour he had to keep us housed, clothed, and fed. My dad was never a dad. _Dean_ kept this family together."

Lizzy nods and see the picture clearly now. Sam's animosity towards John could be his breaking point. "Sam, you gotta let that go."

"Oh, just like that?" Sam caustically asks. "Just let it go?"

"Yes," she emphatically responds.

"_How_? My dad fucked up everything in my life…."

"And he'll fuck up more if you don't let it go," she repeats. "If Dean's right, and familial animosity is the trigger, you'll go dark side for sure, especially when your powers undoubtedly get stronger."

The wide eyed looks of fear from the brother, a look she's used to getting from them by now, makes her keep going.

"Do you guys have any money saved up?"

"No…" Sam answers but Dean corrects him.

"Yes."

"You do?" Sam asks his brother with surprise.

"Yeah, I've always had an emergency stash," Dean let his brother finally know. "Or at least it _was_ an emergency stash at first. Later it became a college fund but your ass is so smart you got a scholarship. I wasn't gonna be able to pay Ivy League prices anyways but I have about ten grand stashed in an account."

"Good!" Lizzy lights up. "This is great! Ok, so… we can set Sam up in an apartment near campus, get him away from your dad."

"Ok," Dean nods in total agreement.

"No," Sam shakes his head.

"Sammy…."

"No, Dean. You're not spending you all your money on me, not anymore," Sam denies.

"I won't let you stay here and turn Vader, Sam!"

"I won't!"

"You don't know that!" Dean shouts back, this fight getting ugly quite fast between the siblings.

"I saw it!" Sam lets the truth out.

"Saw what?" Lizzy asks, interest fully peaked.

Sam goes quiet for a moment, mad he let that out with other people there.

"Sammy, what did you see?" Dean asks, his voice now lowered and steady as he places a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I had a dream," he tells him, volume low. "Last night. I saw dad… he came home drunk after getting fired again. He was pissed and he busted into my room. He started yelling, he didn't make any sense… and eventually he started in on me like he used to. Got a couple hits in and you came rushing in. You tried to break us up but dad turned on you, focused on you and I… I lost it."

"What did you do, Sam?" Dean asks.

"I don't know how but… I just put my hand up," Sam says, showing him by lifting his arm with his palm out. "And he just… flew back into the wall. I pinned him there and, and I could feel myself going into… a, a blind rage, I guess. My eyes went black and I don't know why. But I was so angry… I just killed him."

The utter horror on Dean's face does nothing to show how he feels on the inside over this. Icy fear like this hasn't come over him since he came into Sam's room when he heard a commotion and found his mother burning on the ceiling.

"How did you kill him, Sam?" Lizzy asks.

"I don't know," Sam admits. "I just did. He was pinned against the wall… I could feel his heart stopping. I don't know how I did it. I just did."

"Then we need to get you out of here," Lizzy assures him strongly.

"But it won't happen," Sam swears to it. "I saw it so I can prevent it. My first vision never came true because you never killed me." His rational is there. "So if I know what's going to happen then I just… won't let it."

"You're not risking that," Dean says to him. "No fucking way."

"But you earned that money…."

"To use for reasons like this," he keeps insisting. "It's _my_ money. If this is what I want to do with it then tough titties, kid. You're moving out."

Sam huffs in exasperated loss. "Am I ever gonna have a say in what happens in my own life?"

"No," Dean decides, cutting the conversation short. He turns to Lizzy. "I'll get him outta here. He'll be fine."

"Ok, good," she smiles back slightly, relieved to see them both believing her enough to be proactive. "And Sam, if you've had another vision then you need to be careful. They're gonna come more often and more frequently. It seems like the powers only strengthen over time. Just make sure they don't get to a frightening point. If they do, you call us. I left both my and Garth's numbers in there. We have a couple each. And if they all don't work you can call Bobby, a friend of ours. He's an old hard ass but he can get us in contact with you right away. We'll be back in a flash if you need us. Don't hesitate."

Sam just nods and keeps raking through the information in the folder.

"So what now?" Dean asks them.

"Well, you have to get Sam a new apartment and read through everything really, really well," Lizzy says to him. "And Garth and I need to move on."

"What!?" Dean asks with panic. "You're just ditching us?"

"We don't ditch people," Lizzy promises. "We just have to share the wealth of our talents. Other people need us too. We have other hunts to get to. We can stick around for today, make sure you guys are all set, and then we'll head out again."

"So you really do travel a lot for work," Dean summarizes to Lizzy.

"I tried my best to cut the lies to a minimum with you," she admits.

"I appreciate that," Dean laughs slightly. He stands up and takes the newspaper from the kitchen counter, pulling out the real estate section and plopping it in front of Sam, blocking the research folder he was just given. "Apartment first, then folder of creepy weird shit."

"Fine," Sam answers with annoyance but doesn't resist.

Lizzy inhales hard with how much better this went than she could have hoped for. If Sam has Dean around she has faith that this could all work out for the marked man.

"I'll let you guys get on with your day," Lizzy says to them, knowing they have a whole lot of research to get through and a new apartment to find. She gets up and smiles at the boys.

"You're leaving?" Dean asks, for some reason surprised and bummed out by the announcement.

"You have a lot to do," she shrugs and grabs her purse. "And Garth and I have some work to do back at the motel."

"Oh, uh… ok," Dean nods and heads for the side door with her, cutting her off a bit when he grabs the doorknob first. "Do you mind… um, can I call you later on tonight?"

"You'll definitely have questions for me," she laughs a bit. "So please do. Always ask questions. I'll do my best to let you know anything you need to know."

"Right, good," Dean nods, not having meant that he would have questions. He just wanted to talk to her again is all. He pulls the door open for her. "I'll talk to you later then."

"Sounds good," she grins sheepishly up at him and steps through the doorway, looking back at Sam. "Bye, Sam."

"Bye," he says without looking up from the apartment listings.

"Bye for now… Dean," she says quietly and walks off for her car parked out front.

Dean shuts the door and smiles to himself. He shouldn't be in the least bit happy after a morning like this one but he still finds that he is in a way. When he turns around Sam is giving him one massive bitch face.

"What?" Dean asks and Sam just stares at him. "What!?"

"So transparent," Sam says with disgust and keeps looking through the newspaper.

Dean attempts to counter Sam but they both hear a bedroom door open down the hall. They hear John cough a couple times before the bathroom door shuts.

"Fucking great," Sam complains and gathers all the research and the newspaper listings. He stands up and heads for his room. "I'll let you know what I find."

"We'll call to see some places this afternoon," Dean agrees.

Without thinking, Dean goes on autopilot. He pours a cup of black coffee in a Jack Daniel's mug. He pours a good couple shots worth of bottom shelf American whiskey into it. He then grabs the Advil bottle off of the windowsill above the sink and places it and the mug side by side on the kitchen table for his father. With everything about to change he might as well suck up a little right now.

He then disappears into his room in the basement, avoiding the hung over man at all costs.

* * *

With a sigh, Lizzy looks away from her laptop and spread about papers all over her motel bed to stare at her quiet phone. She should be researching their next hunt, a big haunted mansion that yet another teenaged idiot disappeared from in South Dakota, but instead she's just been glancing at her phone now and then. It's been quiet since she left the Winchester house. She was hoping Dean would have called her by now. He hasn't.

Granted, they have no plans to see each other again and if Dean were smart he'd never call again after all he's discovered of her… but she thinks he's not that smart, at least not concerning her. He's quite the smart man, one of the things she admires about him, but every decision he's made about her so far seems to indicate the opposite.

Why, after telling him his brother is marked by a demon and has a super power fueled by evil and that evil killed his mother, would Dean ever want to see her again? He certainly shouldn't.

But she'd give anything to hear from him again….

"Staring at it ain't gonna make it ring any sooner."

Shooting Garth a dirty look, Lizzy doesn't move from her spot. Just glares at him. He laughs at her from where he's lounging on his own bed, sitting against the headboard.

"I'm just saying, wish in one hand and shit in the other…."

"I get it," Lizzy caustically snaps right back. She bites her bottom lip.

"So just call him," Garth says with a sureness she doesn't have.

"Should I?" she worries.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I tried to kill his brother, for one."

"Past is the past," Garth waves away the thought with his hand in the air.

"It was last night!"

"And you told me the night before that you did the dirty with him and it was best ever… you're words, not mine," Garth reminds. "You like him. I'm not stupid. I can tell. Call him."

Lizzy looks back at her phone, thinking.

"Since when did you start to get shy about boys?"

"Shut up," Lizzy rolls her eyes and snatches up her phone. She moves fast, before she's able to change her mind. Finding his number, she presses send and gets up from her spot. She walks for the bathroom as it rings, shutting the door for the best privacy she can get while sharing a room with another person.

"That's my LL," Garth smiles to himself and focuses back on the television.

Sitting down on the toilet seat cover, Lizzy waits as the phone rings yet again. Five times. Maybe he's busy.

"Yeah?"

She hears his voice answer her call. It makes her smile involuntarily just to hear that strong, roughed up voice again. One syllable and she's grinning like an idiot. She should be more concerned with the meaning of that but for now she's just focused on him.

"Dean, hi," she says to him quickly.

"Lizzy. Hey," he answers and she can tell he's now grinning too when he knows who it is. "How's it going?"

"Oh, you know… researching and whatnot," Lizzy tells him.

"Researching what?" Dean asks, sitting back in the driver's seat of his car as he's parked in his driveway, watching Sam get back into the house after their day.

"A haunting in South Dakota," Lizzy says easily, happy that she doesn't have to hide anything from him anymore. "We're gonna head out that way next, prevent more stupid kids taking stupid dares from disappearing."

"Wait… that shit actually happens?" he asks, sitting up a little higher with the news.

"What did you think all those shitty horror movies were based on?"

"The unoriginal imaginations of studio execs?" Dean answers, then laughs

"No," she giggles a little. "It happens. And Garth and I are ready to stop it."

"Huh," Dean thinks aloud. "You know, that doesn't sound half bad."

"Killing a ghost?" Lizzy asks with surprise.

"Yeah. A haunted house sounds kind of exciting. More exciting than my job at least."

"It's more exciting but the burn out rate is much higher. So is the death rate," Lizzy assures, meaning to be joking but it coming out harsher.

Dean doesn't say much after that, unsure of what he could comfortably add. So instead he moves on. "When do you plan to leave and go kill Casper?"

"Tomorrow," she answers, knowing she's making him sad.

"That sucks… for me at least," he admits easily, looking at the keys in his hand and making a decision. "You still staying at that crappy motel?"

"Stanford Motor Inn. Home sweet home," Lizzy jokes. "Why?"

"Be ready in ten minutes."

The line cuts out before she could question or say no.

Looking down at her phone she grins wide. Dean's coming for her. Not because she can help him. Not because she's hot and wants another go around. He likes her. She can tell. He honestly likes her.

Which is good since she really likes him too.

Moving frantically, Lizzy stands up and takes a look in the vanity mirror. She brushes out her hair and tries to save her style. She hasn't showered since very early that morning, before taking her research to Sam and Dean. Then she reaches into her makeup bag and hurriedly tried to give herself a touch up. She can't go out with Dean looking like she didn't even try. That'd be insulting to him, especially when all he's done is try with her.

When several minutes have gone by she practically runs out into the main room with fresh eyeliner and lip gloss and grabs her duffle bag from the floor by the front door. She snatches it up, plops it onto her bed, and starts riffling through it as quickly as she can.

"Where's the fire?" Garth asks her, smiling. He knows what's up.

"Dean's on his way over," she says simply. "Why the hell haven't we stopped to do laundry in so fucking long!? I have nothing left!"

"You have plenty," Garth assures her calmly. "We were at the laundromat four days ago."

"Where're my good jeans? The ones that make my ass look good?" she wonders aloud, thinking about what the hell she's going to wear. This is a true dilemma.

"LL, calm down," Garth says. "Dean likes you already. You could wear sweatpants and he'd just be happy to be around you."

"Ooh, I got it," she ignores him and pulls out a loose knit back sweater with wide neck and frayed edges.

"Women…" Garth complains and watches more TV.

Lizzy grabs a few more things and heads back into the bathroom. She changes into her sweater with a black thin strapped tank under it, using her favorite Vicky's push up bra to make an impression. She pairs it with gray shorts that are perfectly short enough to get his attention and her usual black moto boots. He seemed to like those on her. She runs a straightener through her hair one last time, sprays it down, and grabs her purse on her way to the door.

"Be back by eleven," Garth says without looking at her, acting uninterested.

"Screw that. Don't bother waiting up for me," she smiles and walks out the door. Just as she shuts it behind her and walks out the paved lot, the roar of the Impala engine is heard as Dean pulls up to her. He stops right in front of her and she pulls the passenger door open. Dropping in, she shuts the door and looks at him with a grin. "Perfect timing."

"You look good," Dean says to her, giving the once over.

"Why, thank you," she responds lightly.

"You get ready fast. I appreciate that in a girl."

"Ha-ha," she says with a slight bite but is joking. "Where're we going?"

"I think I promised you Cuban food," Dean says with narrow eyes.

"Done," Lizzy grins and leans forward, reaching for the radio. Dean gets ready to protest and explain the rules of his car but she simply turns up 'Immigrant Song' a little more, nodding her head to the beat before rolling down her window.

Dean's heart skips a beat with that move. "God, you're awesome," he tells her as he drives off.

* * *

"So he looks at me like I'm fucking nuts," Dean laughs a little, looking right at Lizzy from across the small table in the restaurant mid story. "And maybe I am at this point, but hey, at least I'm creative."

"But Fluff!?" Lizzy belts out a laugh. "Seriously?" She leans forward, her hands flat on the tabletop where her plate of food had been before finishing it.

"In my defense, there's only so many ways I could doctor up a box of Mac and Cheese to make it feel like we weren't eating the same damn thing every single night," he responds, still smiling at the memory. "I did the old stand bys first, I promise."

"Hot dogs?"

"Obviously," he nods with an eye roll.

"Ground beef?"

"And canned chicken chunks."

"Ew."

"Oh, now you just sound snobby."

"Oh really!?" Lizzy sits back with surprise.

"Don't piss on my poor people food," Dean smirks, letting her know he isn't totally serious.

She nods back. "Ok, fair enough. What about hot sauce?"

"And ketchup," Dean tells her. "And tuna."

"Ooh, not sure about that one," she responds, the sound of it interesting.

"It wasn't bad," he assures her. "Kinda like tuna casserole."

Lizzy laughs at him and his ability to joke about the terrible moments in his life. Many would be bitter, far angrier than he is, but Dean's been able to keep his head about it all. He's able to look fondly at it instead of festering over what his father put him through.

"But the marshmallow Fluff was… exotic," Dean laughs.

"I can't imagine that tasting good."

"It… didn't," Dean busts a laugh. "But Sam loved it enough so whatever." He shrugs.

And Lizzy sees it right then and there. "So, it's kinda been you and Sam versus the world, huh?"

Dean stops laughing and his smile fades from bright and cheery to something adoring and kind. "Yeah. You could say that. The kid's had some tough blows in life. He deserved better."

Tilting her head with a furrowed brow, she looks at him with confusion. "Dean… you lived that same life. You were hit by the same blows."

He thinks before responding. "Sammy's different."

"How so?"

"He… he doesn't even remember mom. He was so young when it all happened…."

"Honestly, Dean? I don't know which is worse," Lizzy lets him know. "Sam never truly got to know your mom, which is sad as hell but it hurts a lot less when you don't remember the person you lost. You got to know her and love her… then you lost her. You're stuck with these beautiful memories that are now painful for you. I seriously can't tell which is a worse deal."

Swallowing hard while looking down at the wooden table, Dean grabs up his pint of cheap beer and slugs a good couple of gulps. He hates where this conversation went.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Lizzy cuts into his quickly running brain, seeing that she might have said too much. He's been tight lipped about his life, it taking all dinner to get anything out of him at all about his childhood, and when he does she pushes it too far. Nice work, Lizzy. She feels terrible. "I didn't want to upset you…."

"You didn't," he smiles slightly at her. "It's just tough… to think about her. I don't talk about her much. I can't."

"I completely understand that," Lizzy tells him. "And I want to say something but I don't want to piss you off."

He looks at her funny. "Say it."

"You'll be mad."

"I won't," he promises.

"You're just as worthy as Sam is," she tells him. "I know you love him and I know it's just been the two of you pretty much your whole lives. But every story you tell me it's all about how great Sam is and how you have to make sure he gets all he can out of life."

Dean narrows his eyes. "I'm still not mad…."

"You're fucking stupid," Lizzy tells him.

"Well, that's just rude…."

"You're no different than Sam," Lizzy smiles at him, the adoration clear in her eyes as she falls harder for the man across from her.

Dean looks away from her again and sighs, thinking she doesn't yet have the right to say such things. He isn't mad at her. He's frustrated.

"But you think I'm wrong," Lizzy states.

"Sam's smart," Dean tells her, comfortable with bragging about his little brother. "He's really smart, scary smart. I couldn't keep up with him so early on…." He huffs a laugh. "Dad always said Sam was gonna be a big shot and forget all about us one day… and I can't wait for that to happen."

"Why would Sam forget about you?" Lizzy questions with shock.

"He doesn't need me dragging him down," Dean huffs another laugh. "He's gonna be a rich lawyer with a hot wife in a big house with a car that would make me drool. What the hell does he need a deadbeat like me hanging around?"

He says it with all seriousness and Lizzy can't believe her ears. This is so backwards.

"Maybe I should be out on a date with Sam then," she challenges just to see what he has to say. It's nothing. He just shoots her a dangerous look and she sighs with difficulty. "Dean, I'm sitting across the table from _you_ for a reason… several reasons, actually. And one of them certainly isn't because you're a deadbeat."

Licking his lips once as he chooses his words wisely, not looking to give her a reason to not want to be there with him, he speaks up. "I'm just some guy, Liz. The fact that you want to be here right now… a little surprising."

Jaw dropped, eyes wide, and back leaning forward with shock, she just stares at him a second. "You're kidding me, right?"

Expression sincere, Dean answers, "Not at all."

Lizzy blows out a hard, exasperated breath and leans back into her chair with crossed arms. "What the fuck did your father do to you?"

"Watch it," Dean dangerously warns right back. She doesn't know enough yet to make such a statement.

"I'm sorry, but I just… I don't think you get it," Lizzy tells him.

"Get what?"

"Get _you_!" Lizzy nearly shouts and leans over the table again, grabbing one of his hands off of his pint glass and sandwiching it hard between her own. Her forearms rest on the table as she refuses to let him go, her eyes locked hard onto his. "Dean, I need you to listen to me really well."

"Liz, come on…." He complains with an eye roll and tries to take his hand back.

"And shut the fuck up. Just listen to me," Lizzy tries again and waits, eyebrows lifted with impatience until he's looking at her again. "You are… how do you not see it? How do you go through life not seeing how awesome you are?"

Now it's Dean's turn to have quite lifted eyebrows of surprise. "The hell are you talking about?"

"You are quite possibly the most selfless person I have ever come across," Lizzy lets him know. "You have given up everything for one other person in your life and you've never once questioned it. You just did it. You've sacrificed everything, you've never once thought about yourself… you're giving and kind and you have one of the biggest hearts I've seen in a person."

He gets highly uncomfortable now. Compliments are not something Dean knows how to take. He never exactly has gotten any in his life before now, not like this. He pulls his hand back without knowingly doing so but Lizzy holds tight, her strength nothing to mess with, and doesn't let him retreat.

"_I mean it_," she hammers home. "You're a beautiful person, and I'm not just talking about the outside here… well, _mostly_." She smirks a little and Dean relaxes again, fine with that kind of compliment. If it's his looks he's comfortable. "When I first saw you at the bar the other night… obviously I liked what I saw right away."

"You weren't alone in that," he tells her, taking every chance he can to make sure she knows how much he wants her.

"You don't say," she grins back before getting serious again. "But that night, alone with you… I saw a different kind of beauty. You didn't hide from me when we were together. You were you, I think you can admit that."

He nods, knowing he really did bare his all to her and not just in skin. He didn't put that mask on, do the usual song and dance during a hook up. He was real and they connected. It felt new and really good to be himself and no one else for once.

"I… really liked that person," she smiles and gets a little emotional. "You're a giver, I know that for sure…."

"Oh, I'm…."

"Save it," she tells him, knowing the joke he's about to make already. "You're kind. You put me and my needs first and that's in your nature. You put on this tough exterior but I know who you are."

"And who's that?" he pushes her, thinking she's nuts if she thinks she knows him already.

She grins like a cat. "You're stubborn. And persistent. You're strong, stronger than most people. At the core of it, you're good. Not a malicious or mean bone in your body. You like to make people think you're this tough guy with a swagger to kill but… you're sweet. And smart. And really, really exceptional."

He's uncomfortable again. She lets his hand go so he can back away a bit.

"I just wanted you to know that," Lizzy tells him. "I've met people all over this country. You stick out from the crowd. And I like that about you."

Dean takes a deep breath and washes a hand down his face. "You know, I'm not buying you dinner so that you'll compliment me, right?"

A joke. She should have seen it coming. Lizzy smirks and nods, going with it so that he doesn't have to squirm under her positive scrutiny anymore. "I know. Because you're the one who's supposed to be complimenting me."

"Is that how this was supposed to go?" Dean asks with faux surprise, glad to have the easier, jesting ways between them back.

"It's a date, isn't it?" she challenges.

"It is."

"And you're still trying to get into my pants again, aren't you?"

Dean grins wider than wide. "Absolutely."

"Then I think we did this whole thing backwards," she laughs slightly and picks up her tumbler of Jameson, taking the last sip.

Watching her knock back whiskey without a distasteful expression is far more of a turn on than it should be. He picks up his pint, takes a sip, and asks her, "Cake or pie?"

"What?" she laughs a little again.

"Cake or pie?"

She thinks quickly. "Cake."

"Damn. So close to being perfect," Dean comments, downing the rest of his beer. He then pulls out his wallet to pay for dinner, the bill having been dropped off a long time ago but they had kept talking for a while afterwards. "Let's get outta here."

She peers at him with curiosity. "Where to?"

"I got an idea," he tells her, putting cash into the black folder to pay for dinner and getting up. He walks to her and holds out a hand. "Come on. Let's go."

Looking up at him, Lizzy doesn't think twice. She takes his hand.

* * *

After Dean parked his Impala in front of a bakery, ran in after asking her to wait in the car, and then drove them out to a secluded and probably private beach, he parks the Impala and grins at her from the driver's side. "Dessert?"

"Sure," Lizzy answers, going with the flow. He gets out of the car, the white plastic bag from the bakery in his hold, and she gets out on her own side. When she sees the signage for the small beach she knows she was right. It says private property. She looks to him as he's opening the trunk. "Are we supposed to even be here?"

"Probably not," he smirks at her and pulls a blanket from the trunk. He locks his car up and starts for the path to the beach. "You coming or what?"

"Coming, dear," she rolls her eyes as she sarcastically responds and follows along with him, jogging a bit to catch up.

Walking for just a couple minutes the beach comes into view in the early hours of the night. It's nine o'clock, late enough for the sun to have set but not quite late enough for the sun's effects to be gone. The light blue and pale pink colors streaking across the horizon as they meet the dark blue of the ocean are gorgeous. High overhead the first stars are popping into the sky and the seclusion of the beach they aren't legally allowed to be on makes it feel like they might be the last people on the Earth. It's an oddly lovely sensation.

After admiring the scenery around her, Lizzy looks to Dean. He's walked a good twenty feet closer to the water and is currently shaking out the blue fleece blanket onto the sand.

"How do you know about this place?" she wonders as she makes her way to him, taking up the opposite end of the blanket to help him stretch it across the ground.

"My buddy, Rick," he explains. "His parents have money. They own property with access to this beach. People barely come out this way since they're too rich to bother."

"And how many girls have you brought here before?" she has to know, grinning to make sure he understands that the answer couldn't upset her no matter what.

He doesn't respond at first, finishing getting the blanket down and sitting onto it first. He pats the spot next to him and watches her as she starts to settle in. "None that matter before now."

She pauses halfway to her seat and looks right at him. Sincerity. There it is again. He's not so good at hiding these things from her and at this point she can't tell if he's even bothering with trying to keep that self-assured and unbreakable mask on around her anymore.

"That was good," she admits, getting fully seated. She leaves less than an inch between them, both comfortable with that.

"It was, wasn't it?" he asks, prideful.

"Yeah, it was," she smiles and leans into him a bit, nudging her shoulder against his. She then reaches down and starts to pull off her boots. When her feet are free, socks off and all, she digs her toes into the cool sand and sighs. "God, I haven't been to the beach in years."

"I thought you traveled all over?" Dean questions her, thinking she had to have been to plenty of beaches in her time.

"My job keeps me busy," she explains. "Hm, I used to love the beach. I used to go all the time in the summers with my…." She pauses. "Haven't been in years."

"Where did you grow up?" he asks, seeing an opening. She asked so many questions about him at dinner that he never got much out of her.

"Massachusetts," he says. "South of Boston. Used to head to the Cape all the time."

"With your family?"

She nods slowly. "My mom had summers off. She was a teacher. We spent them going to beaches with my brother and sister."

"That sounds pretty nice."

"They're very good memories," she answers, a tight lipped smile sent his way before looking back out at the ocean. "I haven't been back to a beach since the last time I was with them."

Dean can see how big a moment this is for her. "I didn't know. Liz, I didn't mean to…."

"It's ok," she assures him, breathing in the salted air, finding herself quite surprised at how comfortable she is with this. "I'm ok."

He seriously needs to change the subject. "Your job… it really keeps you that busy, doesn't it?"

She huffs a laugh, bringing her knees up and resting her hands on them, eyes trained on the lightly lapping waters. "There's a lot of evil out there."

"How much?" Dean wants to know.

"Too much," she says truthfully. "Seems likes some days I can't even open a newspaper without seeing something that needs to be dealt with. But… someone's got to do it, right?"

When she turns to him he can see the pain she's trying to bury behind chestnut eyes glinting with the oncoming moonlight. "Why do _you_ have to do it?"

"Because I have no choice," she explains easily and quickly. "I know what's out there. I've seen what it can do. I can't just let that go on without helping."

"So you just gave up everything you ever wanted out of life to help other people?"

She bites her lip before telling him with just slightly watery eyes, "If I can help keep just one other person from feeling the way that I do every day… then it's worth never getting a damn thing I've ever wanted in life."

He's blown away by her selflessness.

"Plus… it's the only way I could ever live with myself."

"And you think _I'm_ a good person…."

She smiles at him, thankful for the lighter comment. "It's not all bad. I mean, I get to see the entire country. I've been shore to shore and everywhere in between twice or more. I never have to make my bed or clean. I have constant freedom that most people have never gotten to know. And I know where all the best grub spots are in every one of the states."

"Nice," Dean nods with the sound of that.

After seeing the way he devoured his dinner, Lizzy is getting that he has quite the voracious appetite for food. "Seriously. Name a state."

"Alabama," he give one.

"Miss Myra's Bar-B-Q in Birmingham," she doesn't even need a second to think. Dean shows a face of impression at how fast she answers. "They do bar-b-q with a white sauce. Never seen that before or since. It's unreal."

"Ok, ok," he nods, liking this game. "Michigan."

"Zingerman's Deli, Ann Arbor. Best Reuben I've ever had. And I met H.W. there."

"You met the president!?" Dean asks her, completely disbelieving.

She shrugs. "Who do you think told me to get the killer Reuben when I was in line?" she laughs, the story completely true. He looks at her disbelieving. "I swear. It was sheer dumb luck that we were there at the same time. He's a pretty stand up dude. Really nice. Shitty prez, but he's nice."

"Fuck me," he admires. "Ok, how about Oregon?"

"Double Mountain. It's a brewery with the sickest fire-cooked pizzas. Can't go wrong."

"Oklahoma."

"Ugh," she hums with love. "Cattleman's Steakhouse."

"Georgia."

"Soul food from Rexall Grill."

"Ohio."

"Midway Oh Boy in Elyria," she very quickly answer. "Pickle chips to die for and every single kind of pie in existence."

"Ooh. Speaking of," Dean excites, pulling the white plastic bag onto his lap from the sand and rifling through it. He hands her a fork and a napkin before pulling a small, pink cardboard box out. He opens the top and peeks inside. "Hello, beautiful."

"I hope you're talking to me," he jests when he talks to his food. She peeks in and sees the large slice of cherry pie in it.

"I wasn't but, you know, you're kinda pretty too," he winks at her and sets the pie slice next to himself. He then pulls out the other small pink box and hands it to her. He simply grins.

"Pie for dessert, huh?" she questions, opening her own.

"For me, yes," he says. "But you answered cake."

She looks inside and sees two slices. One is a deep dark chocolate cake with a light, buttercream chocolate frosting. The other is a white cake with strawberry filling and fresh strawberries on top of white icing.

"I didn't know what you'd want more so I got both," he explains.

"I _want_ both," she lights right up, having no preference as both are looking far too delicious. "Nice work."

"Thanks," he answers, picking up his own fork and diving into his pie slice. First bite, he hums aloud with the heavenly taste and as he does he can hear another voice buzz similarly from next to him at the very same time. They look to each other, both with a large bite of dessert in their mouths, and the laugh a little.

"Guess we share a passion for food," Lizzy says around her bite.

"Guess so," Dean agrees, liking that they have that similarity. "And music."

"Hell yeah," Lizzy answers back, cutting another bite and really going to town. "And tying one on."

"Yes. Drinking? Awesome," Dean enthusiastically responds as they both go hard into their food.

Normally Lizzy holds back when it comes to being so damn eager and probably impolite with eating, but with Dean she doesn't feel the need. Plus, he's eating equally as savagely.

"Oh my God!" Lizzy looks to the heavens. "The strawberry is amazing!"

"You found a winner?" Dean asks with her delighted reaction.

"Mm, I usually like chocolate everything more…" she starts, forking a new bite. "But this is nuts."

He sits by, observing her eat like a child on their birthday, chewing fast while watching the small waves and smiling. After getting to know her better he's come to see she doesn't exactly have much to smile about in her life but she's smiling right now. He did that. The pride and happiness this brings him couldn't be measured.

"You have to try this," Lizzy says to him, holding a bite out to him on her fork.

"Nah. I told you, I'm a pie guy," Dean says, pointing with his own fork to his slice.

She gives him an annoyed look. "One bite."

"I don't want it."

"Don't be stupid. Just eat it," Lizzy keeps pushing him.

"Liz, I'm fine. I got that for you so you eat it," he directs, almost sounding like the big brother he is with Sam.

She just stares at him for a second, not liking his tone.

"What?" he asks nervously when she doesn't move for too long.

She pounces. Lizzy gets up off the blanket and jumps on him with her forked bite of cake. In a flash, much faster than he could register, she's pinned him down on his back with a forearm to his throat and her legs straddling him. She holds the bite in his face. "Try it!"

"No!" he tries to push her away but she fights back.

"Eat it!" she laughs while struggling against him.

"Never!" Dean shouts back but knows he's about to lose. He bites his lips shut just in time for Lizzy to pull the cake off the fork and try to shove it into his mouth. Instead she smears the cake and frosting all over his mouth and cheek.

She pauses and sits up, bursting out laughter at his expense.

"Thanks a lot," he says, wiping some frosting off his cheek with his thumb.

"Looks good on you," she giggles, leaning down closer to him. She eyes him over with something very hungry and slowly licks across his cake-covered lips while holding eye contact. "Tastes even better."

She's amazing.

Leaning up quickly, a hand in her hair to keep her close, Dean kisses her. The cake still there gets on both of them but they really don't care. He needed to kiss her. She's too much. She's fun and sweet and damaged and just… everything.

And as Lizzy kisses him back she takes the time to sneakily grab her pastry box from next to them. She reaches into it, grabs whatever piece she can blindly, and pulls away from the kiss just enough to smash the entire thing into his face.

"Ah!" Dean yells out as she laughs hardily, getting off of him and backing away wisely. She stands a few feet from him and watches him sit up, scooping white frosting off his eyes before looking up at her in shock.

"See!?" she laughs, knowing she got some in his mouth for sure. "It's good, right!?" She grabs her stomach while bellowing out her laughter at his expense.

Nodding while knowing he got bested by the girl, her strength shocking and not at all what he was prepared for out of the five foot five inch size that she is, Dean wants payback. Scrambling to his feet, Dean runs for her. She sprints away and dodges his first attempt to grab her quite easily.

Lizzy knows war when she sees it. She dodges him, runs back to the blanket and grabs the closest pastry box. It happened to be Dean's pie slice, it barely half eaten. When he catches up she's already dipped her index finger in the cherry filling, the red color tipping him off that she has his dessert.

"No," he denies strongly, standing on the opposite side of the blanket, hands out in surrender. "Not the pie."

She smirks devilishly, eating the cherry off of her finger.

"Liz, not the pie!" Dean tries again, not wanting his favorite food to go to waste.

In a flash a big clump of pastry and cherry are in her fist. A second later he watches it sail through the air and splat right on his chest.

The red, syrupy goo spreads out over his shirt, reaching as far as his neck and chin. Once the impact is made Dean freezes in total shock, not having thought she'd actually do such a thing. Even Lizzy is surprised by her actions, also stone still with wide eyes as she watches him. They both stare at each other for a moment before a smile grows on Lizzy's face. She doubles over with the sight.

"Oh my God!" she laughs out. "You look like a horror movie victim!"

Dean looks down on himself, covered. And as he hears her laughing hard, something he's sure isn't an everyday occurrence for her, he grins back at her. She's laughing and smiling and it's because he's with her. That's worth a thousand gray t-shirts easily.

And then his eyes darken as he spots the second pastry box. The chocolate cake slice is still in it. Both brown and green eyes spy the ammunition at the same time, then lock onto each other.

"Don't you dare," Lizzy warns, reaching for the last handful of pie in the box she's still holding.

Dean smiles wide with something slightly evil as he dives to the blanket, snatching it up and taking a handful. He scrambles to his feet and they square off.

"You want a food fight?" Dean asks, cake balled in his fist as he prepares to attack. "You got it."

"Bring it, baby," Lizzy grins but before she can finish the sentence he's coming at her. Quickly, he tries to get her in the face with the cake but she's dodged him, gotten behind him, and got him in a head lock of sorts.

Taken aback by how quickly she can move and get him where she wants him, he feels slightly helpless when the cherry pie that's left gets smashed into his mouth, her laughing voice in his ear. He takes the opportunity to reach over his shoulder and blindly press the entire slice cake into her hair.

"Ah! You suck!" she yells at him and lets him go, backing away to clear frosting from her eyes and hairline. When she does she can see the mess she made of him. White frosting on his cheek and right eyebrow, cherry all over his shirt and lower half of his face, chocolate frosting smeared everywhere else… she got him good.

Dean just gets one look at the gorgeous woman and laughs out loud. He can barely see her face through the massive amount of cake and frosting he smeared all over it. He watches as she scoops some off her cheek with an index finger and pops it into her mouth.

"Still tastes good at least."

Marching right for her, Dean grabs the sides of her face swiftly and pulls her in. He licks up her cheek as she huffs a laugh at him.

"Mm," he comments, never letting go of her face but looking into her eyes. "Not bad… for cake."

She stares at him for a second, something in her chest jumping hard as they stand there covered in desserts. He's something special, she can tell. He's not like any other man she's ever met and whatever it is pulling her to him, it's undeniable. He makes her feel different, new. If she had her wits about her she'd be much more nervous about this realization but for now she just presses up on her toes and kisses him.

And as his lips move with hers, just as easily and perfectly in sync as before, Dean's starting to realize the very same thing. This is big. This is bigger than what they'd expected and he doesn't really know what to do with it. He's never been in this place before. This feeling is very new and everything he's not allowed himself to have his whole life but now that it's here in the form of the most striking woman he's ever seen, inside and out, he's sure he's not going to be able to deny this for himself any longer.

He needs her. It's a simple thought but it's the most concrete thing he's ever known in his life. He needs her. Not for physical release. Not for the fact that she's hot as hell. He needs all of her in his life because now that he knows her he can't possibly let this go.

"We're a mess," she says to him, against his lips before kissing him more.

He's not sure if he means from the food fight or from the lives they've led but either way she's right. They're both a mess.

He's a little sad when she backs away from him, ending the kiss, but his spirits pick right up when she grins mischievously at him as she pulls her loose black sweater over her head.

"Let's clean up," she says, eyes playful, and she keeps going. She whips her black tank up and off, leaving her in her black pushup bra while reaching for the button and zipper of her shorts.

"You serious?" Dean asks her.

"Why not!?" she wonders, opening the gray shorts and sliding them down her legs.

"Do you know how cold the Pacific is?" he lets her know while wiping at the food on his face.

"Don't be such a fucking bitch, dude," Lizzy says to him, unhooking her bra and letting it drop.

Uh, her body… so perfect….

She doesn't wait for him. He's made no moves to undress so she just shrugs. "Suit yourself, lame ass." Lizzy lowers her panties and takes them off, sling-shotting them into his chest before grinning. She takes a deep breath, squares off with the quite cold water, and then runs.

Hearing her laughing in the dark of the night, her curvy form growing smaller as she runs, Dean can't help but feel like he's missing out. She's taking the moment to be spontaneous, something he's not one to normally do. His life is pretty much always the same and there isn't much opportunity to break it up and do something like this.

And she's fucking naked! What the fuck is he waiting for!?

Dean's never undressed so quickly in his life. Boots kicked across the sand, he leaves a trail of his clothing behind him as he makes his way to her, marching with happy determination. She's already hidden in the black waves of the water, her smiling face looking back at him and watching him come towards her, and he find himself soon running as quickly as he can towards something very new and very unknown.

And yet he's not all that afraid.

* * *

"Mm," Lizzy hums out, kissing Dean as she's laid out under him in the backseat of the Impala. Her wet hair is surely leaving a puddle on the leather seat but luckily Dean's not thinking about that right now. She's keeping him occupied with her lips on his, one arm around his neck to keep him close. "Please tell me you have a condom."

Dean pauses and grins at her. "Hold on." He leans down for one more kiss from her before pulling the blanket off of him and reaching for his pants in the front seat.

After the impromptu swim in the freezing water, they both hustled back to the car and scooped up their belongings. Ditching everything in the front seat, Lizzy quickly pulled Dean into the back, wrapping the blanket around them for warmth. Soon enough they were moving together with ease, much like their first night. It's just too simple to get into a rhythm together.

And now, Lizzy asking him to get protection, his heart is racing. He couldn't be happier to be where he is and with who he's with right now.

After riffling through his pockets he finds his wallet, he pulls out the condom he put in there quite hopefully and gets back into his place between her long, smooth legs. He grins at her while pulling the blanket back over them both.

Licking her lips with anticipation, Lizzy's eyes widen as he tears open the package with his teeth, spitting the bit of wrapper out of his mouth goofily. She giggles at him, Dean being a reminder of the good hearted ways people not in her profession tend to hold on to. He's giving that back to her after she lost it years ago.

"I am _so_ glad you called me," Dean tells her with slight jest.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Oh, I don't want to leave tomorrow." She settles in his lap, straddling him as she suddenly lets herself feel the sadness of moving on.

Dean lifts his head and catches her gaze.

"Fuck, I don't wanna leave this," she admits, her face clearly confused by whatever it is she's feeling at the moment for him. This whole thing is taking her completely off guard and tossing her for the worst loop. The plan was to hunt, help people as it's her mission in life, and probably go down swinging one day. She never figured she'd find more than a few one-nighters to curb the loneliness. She knew what she was signing up for when she showed up on Bobby's doorstep a high school dropout asking for him to teach her everything he knew.

Never before this moment did she wish she had a normal, boring life.

"Don't worry about it," Dean promises her, a quick kiss to ease her. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

"No… it won't," she says pausing in his lap and looking at him. She places a soft hand to his cheek. "You're the first guy that's tried in so long."

"Tried?" he questions, pulling her close and holding her in when he can see her upset.

"You fucked me," she shrugs. "And, and that's what most guys want. I'm the drunken prize at the bar. And then, boom, I'm back to my shitty life. But you didn't let it go. You tried. And it felt… really good that someone wanted to try with me." She smiles sadly at him for that. "So, thank you."

"Thank _you_!?" his eyes bug out of his head. "Are you nuts? Or better yet, are all those other guys nuts!? What the hell was wrong with them!?"

She smiles a little at him for that.

"Liz, I… God damn," he shakes his head. "Why the hell wouldn't I try? Honestly?"

Biting the inside of her cheek, she swallows thickly around the lump in her throat. He's so sincere about it, so truthfully crazy about her so quickly. All he's done is try to make her smile and spend time with her. "And that's why I don't wanna leave." It's whisper as she's lost her full voice. "I've never…. No one's ever been like this to me."

"Then everyone else is out of their fucking minds," Dean says with pure confidence. "Don't worry about me or leaving, ok? You do what you have to do… and I'll do what I have to do. Everything will work out. And this isn't goodbye. I promise that."

She takes a deep breath. "You'll wait around for me?"

"Yes."

"It could be months…."

"Don't care," Dean swears to her. "We'll make it all work. Trust me?"

She smiles and laughs, knowing how dumb it is to trust someone she's just met, but it doesn't matter. "I don't know why but… yeah, I really do."

"Good. Everything will be fine, Liz," Dean promises and kisses her once quickly. "Now, can you get moving again because you're kinda killing me here?"

She giggles lightly, the sound perfection to him, before planting a serious kiss on his lips. "Never meant to kill you."


	42. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 5)

Pulling up to her motel to drop her off after a damn near perfect night out, Dean parks his Impala out front of room seven, the number she and Garth always request. The light is on inside the room, letting Lizzy know her partner is in there. She sighs.

"I love him to death, I swear… but sometimes I wish I didn't have such a goofy fucking partner," Lizzy groans out with disappointment, her shoulders slumping now that she's back to reality.

"I can't imagine living with a coworker day in and day out," Dean admits, not having the first clue on how she manages. Sure, Garth seems sweet but he's also too damn much. He's a lot to handle.

"It's not pretty," she sighs heavily, looking at the room door. "And we probably have more research to do… ugh." She sits back and looks up at the ceiling of the Impala, back of her head resting on the top of the bench seat. "I'm burning out, man."

"Do you ever take a break?"

"This was as close to a break as I've had in over a year," she admits. "No rest for the wicked and all that crap."

Dean sits for a second, looking at her as his mind turns. "Research… uh, what do you mean by that?"

She turns her head to him without lifting it. "Research. Dude, you can't go into a hunt without knowing what you're running head first at."

"A hunt?" he asks, the lingo new to him.

"Yep. I'm a hunter. I hunt bad shit. We go on hunts," she says once more to the cab ceiling. "That's the whole gig in a nutshell."

"What are you… _hunting_… next?" Dean asks, using her lingo that's new to him.

"Going run of the mill this time. Ghost," she answers, hands shaking out her damp hair that's falling behind the bench seat.

"A ghost? Seriously?" Dean asks, still very new to everything.

"Very," Lizzy says with pure nonchalance. "The Adam's House in Deadwood, South Dakota."

Dean perks up. "Deadwood? Like the show?"

"Uh, yeah," Lizzy nods. "It was based on a real place after all."

"No shit," Dean nods. "That's awesome."

"I guess," Lizzy shrugs. "It's just an old Midwest town. I've been everywhere at this point. It's all…." She blows out a breath. "White noise."

"Come on. You get to see everywhere," Dean says with more enthusiasm than Lizzy thinks he should. "You've seen the country."

"I have," she once more says with a pure lack of excitement.

"I've seen… here," Dean huffs with disgust. "And Kansas. That's it."

"Why Kansas?"

"That's where I grew up. We only moved here for Sam when he got into Stanford."

"The whole family moved to California for your brother?" she asks with shock, sitting up.

"Dad lost his last job. I wasn't tied down there… plus a mechanic can find a job anywhere. And out here there's classics everywhere. Way more fun."

Lizzy nods. "I can't believe you're so devoted to your little brother," she huffs a laugh. "It's kinda refreshing to see."

"All we ever had was each other," he easily explains. "I'd do anything for that kid." He looks her hard in the eye to make sure she gets it. "_Anything_."

Lizzy nods, getting it as much as she can, and looks back at the motel room. He watches her shoulders slump further. "I better get going."

"You need help?" Dean asks her hopefully.

Lizzy's head snaps around and her eyes look to him with surprise. "You wanna help research a haunting?" she wonders with disbelief.

"Yeah. Why not?" Dean wonders.

"Why the hell would you want to do that boring shit?"

"Curiosity, mostly," Dean answers quickly. He then smiles a little. "And… I wouldn't mind hanging out a little more, seeing what you do and why it is you can't just quit and stay here."

Lizzy's face turns up in a slow smile. "You're insane."

Dean shrugs as he opens the Impala door. "It's been said."

When the door then creaks shut Lizzy watches him head for her room. She rolls her eyes. "He doesn't give up," she says to herself, opening her own car door. "Gotta give him that."

* * *

"So, straight up… this shit _really_ happens," Dean comments as he sits up with his back against the headboard of Lizzy's bed, her laptop open on his long-stretched legs crossed at the ankles.

"Every day, compadre," Garth answers, sitting Indian-style on his own bed.

"This is like a damn movie," he comments as he starts to read the article he found. "The Adam's House. Built in 1892 by Harris and Anna Franklin, a couple of Deadwood pioneers. It was then occupied by the Adam's family… the Adam's Family? _Really_?" Dean looks up from the screen to Lizzy sitting at a chair at the table.

She smiles back at him genuinely, his amusement quite funny to her. "It's only one D."

"Yeah, but still."

"Like I said, Hollywood gets their ideas from somewhere, right?"

"Jesus," Dean huffs out. "Well, the Adams' moved in some years later and when the patriarch W.B. Adams died his wife just left the place. Seriously just up and ditched."

"Explain," Lizzy pushes him and he looks up at her. She already has all the information from Garth's and her research from before. Now she wants to see if he can handle finding the same. Maybe it'll help him understand what she does.

"She just snapped and couldn't live there anymore. She locked the door with everything as it was. Medicine in the cabinets, cookies left in the cookie jar in the kitchen, everything exactly as it was the moment she left and it all stayed that way for about sixty years."

"People grieve weird," Garth mentions. "When my grandpa died my grandma set up a shrine to him in the house. Looked like straight witchcraft… then again, she was pretty into the occult…."

"We've been over this, Garth," Lizzy stops him in his tracks. "Your grandmother wasn't a witch. And that wasn't occult stuff. She was religious."

"Then explain the altar in the house, LL," he fights back.

"You mean the cross with Jesus crucified on it and the Virgin Mary statue?' Lizzy challenges. "She was a good Christian woman. Don't shit on her. I liked her."

"I liked her too," Garth says, his voice saddened. "Alright, what else you picked up on, big man?"

When Garth peeks at him Dean can feel the test they're putting him through. He told them he wanted to see what they do and, accepting the challenge they saw it as, they gave Dean the simple information Bobby gave them. The Adams House, Deadwood, haunting, people going in at night and never waking up alive. They then gave him Lizzy's laptop and said good fucking luck.

Dean didn't need luck. He was ready to prove himself.

"The town of Deadwood bought it back from the Adams family in '92 and they converted it into a historical site and museum for the entire town's history. Since then people have reported odd things, from cold spots roaming around the house to rocking chairs moving on their own during tours of the place… I mean, visitors and workers alike have said they've experienced weird shit there."

"You're warm," Lizzy smiles kindly to see him doing so well so far. "But that's what everyone finds when they look up the Adams house. You need to dig deeper."

This is where Dean shares his best shit-eating grin with her. "Who said that was all I found?"

She cocks an eyebrow at him and he keeps going.

"So aside from the small occurrences, ones that are obviously half lies considering that the sightings just happened to ramp up as soon as haunting rumors hit the streets…."

"Good catch, Dean-o," Garth comments quickly, sharing a surprised face with Lizzy. She just cockily grins back with pride in Dean.

"The real problems began in about '94 from what I can see."

"Why '94?" Lizzy asks, her eyes wide with what he's been able to catch on his first try. He's seeing things an amateur shouldn't, connecting very widespread, not-so-obvious points.

"Well, really I realized the problem in 2003, when Lindsay Johnson died," Dean keeps going, clicking through the various pages he has open. He skims over the newspaper article about Lindsay. "She was dared by a friend that lived a few streets over to break into the house after they'd been drinking half the night. Around one a.m. she went in, stole a doily from some antique table on the second floor, and left. She then passed out at her friend's house but never woke up. The paper claims it was alcohol poisoning but… I'm gonna go ahead and say it wasn't."

"Why would you call bullshit on the article?" Lizzy presses.

"Because… eye witness reports from her friends she had been drinking with claim that when they found her the next day her eyes were wide open and face frozen in a terrified expression, like she was scared to death. And the doily was clutched in her hand. The paramedics couldn't even pry it out."

Lizzy grins wide and nods, oddly very proud of him in the moment. "Nice work."

"Thanks," Dean smiles right back. "But that's just what tipped me off. There have been a few other deaths before and after that in the area that have been way too similar to be a coincidence."

"Rule number one; a coincidence is never, _ever_ a coincidence," Lizzy lets him know.

"Starting to see that," Dean responds, eyes glued to the laptop as he clicks through reports from local newspapers. "The first one I could find that seems to be the same thing is from 94'. Eric MacDonald. He was found the same way, in his bed frightened to death. There were no reports of him going into the Adams House but I'd bet dollars to donuts he did. He lived just a town over and witnesses place him in a bar in Deadwood not far from the house. And in total I found six deaths, including the latest one just a week ago, since the house was bought from the Adams'. All the same thing. Scared to death."

"Very nice work, Dean," Lizzy commends him. "All that in just a couple hours. And without police reports at that."

His face drops. "You have access to police reports?"

Lizzy and Garth glance at one another, grinning.

* * *

"Son of a bitch," Dean lights up, dropping his almost finished beer onto the table he's now sharing with Lizzy. He looks across at her with wide eyes, the Deadwood Police Database open on the laptop he's still using.

"You see it?" Lizzy asks, wondering if he's been able to pick it up.

"They're all fucking kleptos," he says when the one detail he can see becomes clear. "Every single one of those dumb bastards that broke into the place overnight stole something from the house for a souvenir."

"Bingo," Lizzy nods.

"Shit," Dean sits back in his chair and washes a hand down his face with shock. "So… a doily here, fork there, a knickknack sometimes… and they die from what? Pants-shitting fear?"

"That's our guess," Lizzy admits. "Ghosts tend to attach themselves to something. That's how they stay here on Earth versus move on. Sometimes it's a sentimental object like a doll or a picture of family. Other times it's places, like the houses they lived in and loved dearly."

"So what's this ghost attached to?" Dean asks with total confusion. "Clearly it's residing in the house but… it leaves the house when people take from it?"

"Possibly. I mean, we've never honestly seen anything quite like this," she explains, dropping her pages she's been looking at all night to cross her arms over her chest and sit back, paying full attention to him. "We've seen ghosts travel with _an_ item. And we've seen them stay stuck to a specific place. But we've never seen one do both."

"Huh," Dean wonders, scratching at his five o'clock shadow. "What about possession?"

Lizzy gives him a look that says he's cute. "No."

"Why not?" he asks, clicking away at the laptop and pulling up a few articles about ghosts and what they can and can't do. "Says right here that ghosts can possess people."

"What are you looking at?" she wonders with disbelief.

"Uh… the Paranormal Research Society of Western America," he says and shrugs, looking to her for the approval he assumes he'll get. Instead she starts to laugh at him. "What?"

"Those yahoos? They're… well, they're yahoos," she tells him. "Don't trust most sources online. Hunters love big old dusty books for a reason. The internet is filled with jackasses that think they know something about the paranormal when they actually know squat."

"So ghosts _can't_ possess people?" Dean checks.

"_Generally_, no," Lizzy explains. "It's been known to happen very, very rarely but a ghost has to have gorilla juicehead strength to get that done. Most ghosts don't come near that kind of power."

"What if this one does?" Dean asks, thinking he's seriously onto something here.

"Doesn't make sense," Lizzy shakes her head no. "A ghost isn't gonna ride someone's ass out of its dwelling just to pop out, manifest, and kill the host it was just riding. That's crazy. Why not just kill the person in the house in the first place?"

"Yeah…." Dean trails off, not convinced.

"But you did a good job," Lizzy cheers him on as she gets up and heads to the kitchenette. "You figured the whole damn thing out way faster than I thought you would."

"Oh yeah, and it only took… holy shit! Five hours?" Dean shocks out when he looks at his watch. "I've been doing this for _five hours_?"

She laughs at him. "Hunting tests all of the virtues… mostly patience though."

"God damn," Dean comments, looking around and stretching his arms over his head, making Lizzy eye him over. The muscles in his arms flex and move and she finds herself licking her lips with want.

"So… now that you have the inside peek it's not so glamorous, right?" she smirks.

"Not really but hey, couldn't be less glamorous than getting under the dirty, greasy hood of a car."

"Fair enough," she nods, placing a couple shot glasses on the table. Lizzy spins the cap and pulls it off with a grin. "Nice job, Dean. Seriously. I'm impressed." She pours two shots.

"Impressed enough to let me in?" Dean asks, eyebrow cocked.

She huffs a laugh of pure negativity at the idea that comes out of nowhere. "No fucking way." She slides him a shot and takes up the other one. "But at least you're getting a picture of what I do and why I can't always be here."

He picks up his shot glass and clinks it with hers. They down the shots and his brain keeps turning. "So, three in the morning. Time to get some sleep, right? We should turn in?"

She looks at him with surprise and disbelief. "Did this just become a sleepover?"

With a look of interest, Dean says, "It could be."

"You know, it could be nice," she jokes back, sitting back into her chair and packing her research back up. "I'll let you braid my hair, we can look through Teen Beat and cut out pictures of all the cute boys…."

"You know that's not the kind of sleepover I was talking about," he says, leaning forward with this elbows on the table, winking at her.

"And I know for a fact Garth is not all that big into live shows," Lizzy laughs. "He'll be back from his food run any second now."

"Damn it," Dean complains, accepting his sexless fate. "We could always head to my place."

She smiles. "Nah. I need to get a couple hours before I head out tomorrow. But I'll head over and say goodbye. And we'll definitely check in with Sam, make sure he's all set."

"Shit," Dean complains when something dawns on him. "I was supposed to help him pack. We found him a place this afternoon that's ready to move in. He's moving tomorrow morning."

"That was crazy fast."

"And I'm not letting Sammy kill dad," Dean says quickly in response, then scrunches his face up. "And that's the craziest fucking thing I've ever said."

"Welcome to my world," Lizzy laughs lightly. "You should go then."

Dean stops and stares at her, wishing like hell he didn't have to leave. He wants every second he can get with her. But his brother needs him. "I should."

Standing up, he looks around and grabs his keys from the nightstand. He then flips them in his hands and looks at her with narrow eyes.

"Can you hold off on hitting the road until about noon tomorrow?" he asks.

"Why?"

"Well, we should be done moving Sam by then and I can stop and actually say goodbye to you instead of rushing around with boxes in my arms."

Lizzy thinks about it. "I think I can convince Garth to stick around a couple more hours," she nods, wanting that.

"Good," Dean nods, and walks over to her. He ducks down a little gives her a quick kiss on the lips. "Noon."

"Noon," she grins widely and watches him head for the door. He leaves, looking back at her once with a warm, smitten smile and as the door shuts behind him she lets out a deeply held breath. Shaking her head and pressing a hand to her forehead, she has to ask herself, "What the _fuck_ am I doing?"

* * *

A little after noontime the next day Lizzy comes up to the Winchester household. She pulls up to the curb out front and parks just in time to catch the sight of Dean exiting the house with two boxes, one stacked on the other, in his arms. He smiles wide at her when he sees her as she waves back, all the while looking at him in his perfectly fitted black crewneck t-shirt. Mm, damn his arms. She's having the sudden urge to stay.

"Wipe up the drool, darling," Garth tells her as he reaches for the passenger door handle.

"Fuck off," Lizzy bitches back and they both exit their car together, walking towards Dean at the Impala as he puts the boxes into it.

"Hey guys," Dean greets, standing up and looking at the hunters making their way across the lawn to the driveway.

"Wow, that's a lot of stuff," Lizzy laughs a little, the classic car packed to the gills.

"We cleaned house a bit," Dean admits. "The kid needs everything. Dishes and pans to towels and toilet paper… and a bed, ha. I don't think dad's gonna be all that happy when he sees so much stuff taken but hey, I bought most of it anyways."

She shares a sad smile with him, her hands stuffed in her back jeans pockets.

"Is he here?" Garth asks.

"Inside," Dean nods to the house. "He's packing the last of his crap. He's actually in a pretty good mood considering. I think I convinced him that the joys of living _without_ dad will outweigh anything."

"Including visions?" Garth questions.

"Yeah," Dean laughs a little, knowing that isn't true. "Head on in."

Garth salutes him a little and heads for the house, ready to check up on anything Sam is curious about and to hand over a couple extra tips to him.

That leaves Lizzy and Dean alone outside in the yard. The silence gets a little strange but Lizzy speaks up first.

"You gonna be ok living here alone with your dad?" she wonders, knowing from what little tidbits he's shared that John isn't exactly an easy person to handle at times.

"Don't worry about it," he says knowingly.

"I _am_ worried about it. Everything you've told me about you guys…."

"Liz, I have it handled," Dean tells her with an odd certainty. "It won't be an issue."

"You seem so sure," she says with suspicion. He shouldn't be so calm about all this.

"So, South Dakota, huh?" Dean changes the topic and she lets him, not before giving him a knowing look to let him know she sees what he's doing. "Where should one eat if they wanted the best of the Mount Rushmore State?"

She laughs at him.

"What?"

"Did you look up South Dakota or something or did you just know it's called the Mount Rushmore state?"

He pauses, thinking quickly. "Went there once. Saw the presidents' giant domes in the side of a mountain. Very impressive."

"I thought you said you didn't ever travel the country?" she asks, eyes narrowed and knowing something is up with him.

He's caught. "I lied. I looked it up. After researching yesterday I was kinda… on a roll, I guess. You said you were going there so I looked it up."

"You're so weird." She laughs and shakes her head.

"Not any weirder than you, sweetheart," he laughs a little. "So?"

"So what?"

"Best food joint?" Dean reminds her.

"Oh, right," she nods. "Bob's Café in Sioux Falls. Broasted chicken and shrimp."

"_Broasted_?" he asks, never having heard of such a thing.

She grins. "Why don't you plan to someday come see me out that way," she starts, stepping forward into his space and tucking her fingers into the front pockets of his jeans to pull him closer. She presses up on her toes a little. "I'll bring you to Bob's myself. You can find out firsthand."

"You asking me to come see you at your… uh… trainer-slash-adopted-father's house… or something like that?"

She laughs at his description of Bobby according to what she's told him. Quite accurate. "Of course."

Dean gives her a funny look before meeting her halfway, kissing her seriously considering she thinks this is the last time she'll get to do this for a long while. He lets his lips play against hers, lets her tongue dip into his mouth and slide along his once, and he enjoys it for all it's worth. Whatever the hell this is they have… it feels damn good.

"Knock it off!" Garth yells to them as he and Sam come out of the house, both with armfuls of the last bit of Sam's belongings.

"Fuck you, Garth," Lizzy says to him without fully pulling away from Dean, her stubbornness running as she kisses him again despite being told to stop.

"No, seriously. No one wants to see that," Sam comments, dropping boxes into the Impala's backseat before taking Garth's and adding them.

Dean smiles and backs away from Lizzy, taking a deep breath and preparing for it all.

"Sammy-boy, you forgot one," Lizzy suddenly says as she spots a large canvas, army-style backpack that's packed to the gills on the driveway propped against one of the rear tires.

"That's not his," Dean says calmly, bending down to grab the backpack and slinging it over one shoulder. "It's mine."

Lizzy shoots him one very confused look as he turns to his brother.

"You got everything you need, right?"

"Yeah, Dean," Sam rolls his eyes with the mothering. "I have everything. And I still think this is a bad idea. Dad's gonna be so pissed."

"He'll survive and that's the point. Just don't tell him the address until he cools off after a few weeks. Call and check on him every few days if you can… even if he'll probably just yell at you," Dean assures as he dig into his back jeans pocket. He pulls out his wallet and removes a stack of one hundred dollar bills. "Here."

"What the hell is this?" Sam asks when Dean grabs his wrist with one hand and presses the folded wad into Sam's grip with the other.

"You don't have time for a job," Dean says. "And I don't want you getting one. School comes first, especially in the home stretch. You make this last and when you run low you call me right away, you hear me?"

"Call you...? I know where you live," Sam scoffs. "What's this all about?"

"I'll need you to look after her for a little bit," Dean continues very seriously all of a sudden and doesn't answer his brother's questioning. He pulls his key for the Impala out of the side pocket of the backpack. He dangles it in front of Sam with a face of stone. "Take care of her. One ding and I swear I will end you."

"What the hell are you doing, Dean!?" Sam asks with near panic when he sees his brother handing over his one true precious.

"Take it," Dean all but demands and Sam stays frozen. Once more Dean grabs his wrist, this time the opposite one, and shoves the key into his hand before he can be stopped. "And be good to her. I'll be back for her in a little bit."

"Where is it that you think you're going?" Sam asks with a truly horrified face.

Dean turns to look at Lizzy, the woman standing back with eyes the size of golf balls. "I'm… in the middle of a career change."

"No!" Lizzy denies instantly, stepping towards him and points at him warningly.

"I want to go with you and Garth…."

"_No_!" she further emphasizes, pushing him a bit in the chest when she gets angry with him.

"And I want to make my life mean something."

"You're being an ass!" Lizzy shouts up at him.

"I agree!" Sam yells and sides with Lizzy.

"You can't just drop your life and decide to hunt!" she keeps trying.

"Isn't that what you did?" Dean turns it around, speaking innocently when he doesn't understand why she'd be so mad.

"Because my entire family was slaughtered!" she screams. "You still have a dad! You still have a brother that clearly needs you!"

"And how do you suppose I'm gonna keep him safe if I don't know what's out there and I'm not ready for it when it comes for him?" Dean challenges. "You told me a demon fucked with Sam. He's got psychic shit going on and something could be after him. I need to be ready for whatever that is and the only way I'll be ready is if I go with you. So… _I'm going with you_." Dean walks away from her and towards her parked car.

"No you're not," she determinedly tells him.

"Sure I am," he responds quickly, still walking.

"No! You're not!"

"Try and stop me then," he fights, opening the backdoor of her Toyota and tossing his backpack in.

"Oh, you bet your ass I will," she determinedly says, walking swiftly to him. He's completely lost it and there's no way he's ready for this.

Once she reaches him, Dean turning back to face her after dropping his backpack, he sees her just in time to watch as Lizzy easily winds up and slugs him in the eye.

"Jesus!" Dean shouts and grips his face once he's recovered from his head reeling back with the force. "What the hell, Liz!?" he asks, looking at her with his one good eye.

"You couldn't even block my shot!" she screams at him. "You didn't even see it coming! If you can't block one little punch from a chick a half foot shorter than you then how the hell am I supposed bring you along on hunts!? You'll get yourself killed!"

"_Then teach me_!"

They both stare at each other hard, neither giving an inch with their stubborn and determined ways. Dean's clearly made his decision, he was heading into the hunting world. Lizzy clearly has her opinion on the matter.

"This is stupid." She says it with venom.

"I don't know," Dean shrugs, his face still set in anger as he pulls his hand off of his eye. "I've been known to do dumber things than try and do something good with my life."

She sighs heavily, shaking her hand out as he replaces a palm over his throbbing eye when the pain it too much. "Look, I don't want your blood on my hands when things go south, and they _will_ go south…."

"It would never be on your hands," Dean says to her assuredly. "This is _my_ decision."

"A decision that directly affects us, Dean-o," Garth points out, calmly making his way to Lizzy as he's always the one in control of his emotions unlike his partner. He stands next to her and gently takes her hand, pressing and prodding for injuries after the punch. "We don't always have time to babysit the new hunter."

"You don't have to babysit me. I'm an adult."

"You're an amateur," Lizzy points out. "And your lack of experience is exactly why babysitting is necessary. It's not about age. It's all about experience."

"Then baby steps," Dean tries a little more. "Ease me into it."

"We don't have time for that," Lizzy tells him, taking her hand back with annoyance. "I'm fine, Garth."

"Lizzy's famous final words," he rolls his eyes.

"Ok, then take me to that Bobby guy," Dean says like it's no big deal. "He trained you didn't he?"

"Yeah…" Lizzy starts.

"And you're a fucking killer," Dean smiles, trying to suck up. "He can train me too."

"Who said he wanted to?" Lizzy keeps fighting it. "He's older and he has his own life. He's a busy guy. Convincing him to take me in in the first place was hard enough."

Dean nods, seeing how much harder a sell this is than he was prepared for. He figured Lizzy would be happy to have him along and it'd be much easier than this. "Ok, how about this then? You bring me with you. We deal with that Adams House ghost and I'll stay off your asses for it unless you need me. Then we head to Bobby's and I'll do my best to convince him to train me up. If he says yes then awesome, I stay. You two can go out hunting your asses off and I'll train up with him. If he says no then he says no. I'm outta everyone's hair."

There's a pause. Lizzy and Garth look at each other while thinking. It wasn't the worse plan they'd ever heard. But then again, pulling an innocent civilian into the fold like that? They'd be ruining his life….

"Look," Dean cuts into their silence when he thinks they still might say no. "You told me that everyone gets into this for a reason. Well I got a big one. That should be enough."

Biting her bottom lip, Lizzy looks at him for a second. She then rolls her eyes and groans. "Fuck, man."

Dean grins wide. He feel the yes coming now.

"LL, he'll be fine," Garth tries to assure when he takes Dean's side, always being the softie of the two. "The ghost will probably be an easy salt and burn once we investigate a little more. Then… Bobby'll take him in."

"Yeah right," Lizzy laughs it off.

"He will," Garth nods. "Under the trucker hat and beard is a teddy bear and ya know it."

"Don't ever say that to him," Lizzy warns and sighs again. This feels wrong. It feels wrong to bring another person into this life. But then again, she can understand his position on everything. She wanted her vengeance too. She wanted to get her hands dirty and make right everything that was severely wrong with the world after her family was gone. She knows his pain and she's well away that it never really goes away.

She can't deny him this. She has no right to.

"Give me three good reasons why I should let you come with us," Lizzy says to him, hands on her hips as she makes sure he understands how serious she is. "Why are you sure you want to abandon your life as you know it and become a hunter, which I can promise from experience is a very dumb idea?"

Squaring off with her with the challenge he takes a single deep breath. "I want my mother's death to mean something. I don't want her to have died for nothing. If I can help others then… at least she died for a good cause in the long run. She'd be the reason other people survived, right?"

"That's a good one," she nods, letting him know he's on the right track.

"Two, Sammy. I need to protect Sam and if I do this and I learn all there is to know, train up… I have a shot," Dean tells her, fully meaning every word. "I can't let anything happen to him. Ever. And I can't just sit here and wait for something to come for him."

"That's another good one," Lizzy admits.

"I know, right?" Dean smiles when he's got her now. "Alright, let's do this."

"No, no, no," she immediately denies. "I said three. I need another reason." Lizzy looks at him and waits, standing between him and the car.

Dean thinks very quickly. "I'm not ready to let you leave without me."

"Meaning?" she asks, not getting it.

"Meaning…." Dean stops a second, summoning his courage. "I like you. I mean, I _really_ like you. I'm not gonna stand here and pretend to know any more than that right now but we have something, Liz. You know we do. And I don't want you riding off into the sunset without me. I need more time with you."

Lizzy immediately looks away from the group, avoiding everyone's eyes as she tries to hide the involuntary smile he makes root itself on her face. That was incredibly sweet. And incredibly off topic.

When she turns back her face is serious again despite Dean's lighter, slightly grinning one looking back. "That doesn't count as a good reason to devote your life to such a difficult and dangerous job."

"It's a good reason to just come with you though, right?" Dean grins a little wider.

This time she grins back before clearing her throat and making her expression drop, wanting a real answer. "Try again."

"Fine. Fine. I want my _own_ life to mean something."

"What does that mean?" Lizzy questions him.

"It means… I have no purpose. I have to have a bigger meaning to why the fuck I'm on this Earth. My life has to mean something."

"It already does," Sam cuts in, angry with Dean's reasoning.

"Sam, I fix cars," Dean explains with a sharp tone. "I'm not curing cancer. Outside of you the world barely knows I exist."

"But… you've done everything for me," Sam points out. "You don't need to cure cancer to make a difference. Where would my life be if you hadn't picked up all of dad's slack?"

Looking down at the grass at his feet, Dean washes a hand down his jaw. Sam never has once spoken like that to him. It takes him off his game for a second. He then looks up at Sam with a half-smile. "You're all grown up, Sammy. You don't need me to make your lunches and tie your shoes anymore. You can handle yourself."

"Dean…."

"Sammy, if I did right by you then you'll be fine," Dean says to him, sure that it's true.

"What about dad?"

"What about him?" Dean asks, angry. "We've been dealing with him our whole lives and what has he ever done for us?"

"That's not totally his fault," Sam quietly says, going back on his always there convictions.

"No… but it's time we live our own lives for once. Clearly we can't help him. He's going to drink and be miserable no matter how hard we try. And I can't help you anymore either, not like I used to. It's time I did some good out there instead of just right here," Dean tells him, waving his hand through the air to mean the world.

Sam can't speak at first. Dean's right. Sam knows he can take care of himself. Maybe he just didn't want to. Losing his security blanket is terrifying. Clearing his throat, Sam finally answer with, "Ok. I mean, I can't stop you…."

"Damn straight, you can't," Dean smirks lightly.

"And… you've always been the strong one," Sam admits. "And if this is what you want, then… go for it. You're right. I'll be ok."

Dean smiles with closed lips. He reaches out and pats Sam's cheek a couple times roughly. "You just study and check in every few days. And if you need money you speak up!"

"I swear I will."

Dean then looks at Lizzy, eyes serious, honest. "He's cool with it."

"It's not about him," Lizzy tells him.

"Yeah, I know," Dean answers, scratching the back of his head for a second. "But I want out. I want out of this little life. My dad's going nowhere, Sammy's going _everywhere_… and I have no identity. I just float along doing a menial job, having no goals and no real reason to be. I need to figure out who I am and why I am. I have no clue who I am." Dean wrinkles his brow and looks down again, surprised by his own words. He didn't realize how clueless about life he was until right this second.

Lizzy nods. Shit. She turns to Garth. "Those were really good answers."

Dean's face perks up as his head whips up to look between her and Garth.

"Best we've ever heard," Garth agrees completely.

"Shit," she complains out loud, knowing she's lost this battle.

"Well alright!" Dean cheers, clapping his hands once before rubbing his palms together. "Shall we hit the road? And lunch is on me when we stop. I'll be hungry soon." He winks at Lizzy and turns to give his little brother a tight hug.

"You're insane," Sam quietly tells Dean, suddenly more frightened than he can ever remember being before now.

"Probably," Dean laughs a little. "But I gotta do this."

"I know," Sam says, still hugging his brother goodbye. "And I like her."

"Me too," Dean smiles.

"Even if she tried to kill me."

"She wouldn't have," Dean knows in his heart and he lets Sam go. "Alright, smartass. Get to your new apartment and unpack. That way you can finish up your studying or whatever."

"I will," Sam nods, looking down at the Impala keys in his hand with shock.

"I meant it," Dean warns, pointing at Sam accusatorily. "One single scratch… you're dead."

"I'll take care of her, I promise." Sam means it. He would never screw with that car, not when it means so damn much to the one person that means so damn much to him.

"I know you will, Sammy," Dean grins at him and winks one last time before opening the back car door on Lizzy's car and getting in. When he closes it, everyone now in the car and ready to head out, Sam can feel an oddly lonely, cold feeling creep into his chest. He's never been on his own. He's always wanted to be but his overbearing brother never let him. Now? Shit, maybe he was more comfortable with the status quo than he thought.

And when the car pulls away from the curb and disappears down the street, a single wave of the hand from Dean out the window, Sam's been given what he wants. Independence.

Is he ready for that?


	43. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 6)

"How'd it go!?" Dean lights up when the motel room door opens after a long night of nothing but boredom for Dean. He was left behind, understandably, while Garth and Lizzy went out to the haunted Adam's House to investigate. He spent the time picking through Lizzy's journal, reading about all the things that he thought were made up by Universal Studios, and how exactly to deal with everything that goes bump in the night. All sorts of new tidbits have been learned, like vamps can eat garlic, go out in the daytime, and touch a cross but they can't process dead man's blood well and the only way to off one is by beheading… good to know.

"Fucking shitty," Lizzy gripes as she walks in with hunched shoulders, plopping her heavy weapons packed duffle onto the table with a thud.

"We didn't find out anything new and our ghost pal didn't seem to want to come out and play," Garth tells him in a less pissed off tone.

"So we have to stay another night," Lizzy says, kicking her boots off in a huff and heading for the bathroom. She yanks the door shut behind her with a boom and Dean looks to Garth with wide eyes.

"I can see you didn't know so much about her temper yet," her partner mentions lightly, seeing the shock all over Dean.

"Guess not," Dean says with a scared face. "Damn."

"You get used to it," Garth says, shucking off his coat and plopping onto the opposite bed that Dean's stretched out on. "Plus, she's a whole lotta bark, minimal bite."

"Good to know," he comments lightly, marking the journal page and closing it for the night now that he's got company.

"How's it coming with that?" Garth nods at the journal before tucking his hands behind his head and laying back.

"It's… friggin' insane," Dean tells him with a laugh. "I mean, werewolves, shapeshifters… even zombies are real?"

"They ain't as fun as the movies make them out to be," Garth warns.

"I'm getting that," Dean agrees, looking over the worn leather cover, the initials EN on the bottom corner. "You got one of these too?"

"Nah," Garth says, closing his eyes. "Not much for keeping up on that stuff myself. That's LL's thing."

"Does seem like a lot of work…."

"It is."

"But it seems pretty helpful."

"It's also that," Garth nods, eyes still closed. "Worth it if you're willing."

The toilet flushes behind the bathroom door and Dean sees Garth wince.

When the door flies open it hits the wall behind it as Lizzy heads for her duffle, ignoring the men in the room.

"You alright?" Dean cautiously asks her as he watches her tense body language giving away how not alright she is.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," she spits back, pulling out some more comfortable shorts and a tight t-shirt to relax in. "I wasted my night spinning my wheels and solving nothing… and now we're another day away from getting back home."

"Home?" Dean questions.

"She calls Bobby's place home," Garth informs.

"And I said we'd arrive tomorrow. And we won't. Hate when that happens."

"But you can't get all agro every time that happens, LL," Garth reminds her.

"Go fucking meditate or something, would you?" she gets angry right back and whips her jacket off.

Dean gets an idea. "Would you feel better if you went out? Had a few drinks?"

Garth shoots up in his spot, sitting tall and looking at Dean. "No. No way."

"Don't father me!" Lizzy complains to her partner right off.

"You cannot go drinking when you're this mad. You know how it tends to go."

"Well, I need to blow off some steam and a lovely young man just asked me to join him," Lizzy says to him with an attitude as she pulls her arms back through the sleeves of her jacket. "And you know what? Drinking sounds great. Dean, shall we?"

She snatches her room key and marches right out of the room, leaving the door open for Dean to follow.

The men exchange looks of worry. "Did I do something wrong?" Dean asks.

Garth just laughs and lays back down. "She's your problem now."

* * *

With wide eyes, Dean sits next to Lizzy at the dive bar a block from their motel and watches her slam back the third shot of Jameson in a row with not a single grimace.

"Ah," she sighs and nods, looking to the bartender. "Two more."

"Whoa, hold on," Dean says to her as the bartender pours anyways. "Seriously?"

"What?" she asks with upset.

"You're gonna be on the floor soon if you keep this up."

"_And_?"

"And I don't want to have to peel you off of it," Dean tells her.

"That's sweet and all but I can handle my liquor a whole lot better than you think," she says with an eye roll.

"No you can't," Dean huffs a laugh. "Just three nights ago you were drunk at Breakers and going home with a stranger. Now, I'm not complaining here because I was that stranger but you gotta slow your roll. It's not smart for a chick to be hammer in a place like this."

Lizzy's face drops as she simply stares at him, insulted a few times over by his little scolding tirade.

"What's with the poop face?" Dean questions, hating the scrutiny she's putting him through.

"First of all, I had a dad. You're not him."

"Ouch." Now he's insulted.

"Second, I wasn't that drunk the other night."

"Please!" Dean calls her out disbelieving. "We both were."

"_You_ were," Lizzy corrects. "I was just… slightly lubricated."

"There's a joke in there somewhere…." Dean trails off, not able to find it quick enough.

"And I don't go home completely trashed with men. I only do that while at least semi-sober. I'm smarter than that."

"You acted drunk."

"I'm a great actress," she winks. "And finally, even if I am a few drinks in I can still fully defend myself. I'm a fucking hunter. I'll tear anyone in this bar a new asshole while completely sloshed. You really don't have to worry about me, ok?" She smirks with sarcasm and downs another shot before pushing the untouched other one towards him. "Bottoms up. You gotta at least keep pace a little bit."

Dean shakes his head with surprise. She's not exactly who he'd pictured. The anger, the drinking, the harsh attitude… she _looks_ like the girl he met a few days ago and seriously started falling for but this side of the woman is all new. He picks up the shot and raises it in her direction. "To keeping up with the girl I clearly don't know jack shit about." Dean slams back the shot and she pats his back.

"Good boy," she flatly jokes as she looks around the place. A dive in every sense. Juke box by the bar, drunken regulars in their usual stools, and the ever present group of younger guys by the pool table. She observes them for a second, seeing how loud and obnoxious they are. And how over confident they are.

She can practically hear the sound of a cash register in the back of her brain.

"Hey," she starts, pulling out a wad of singles. "Here." She presses them into his hand.

"What… we going to the strip club?" he jokes.

"Nope. You're in charge of the tunes since clearly the people around here have sucky taste in music," she explains, the current Lil Wayne song not at all doing it for her. "I'll get us a couple beers."

"Uh, ok," he shrugs, agreeing that the music is shitty at best and he stands up. He eyes her once, as if to ask if she's cool on her own for a minute.

"Go," she rolls her eyes and he walks, listening because he doesn't want to start anything.

Taking his time as he searches through the songs for some good old fashions classic rock, Dean thinks over his decision. She's different than he expected her to be, true… but maybe only while hunting. Before, when with him and off the clock, she was sweet and funny even under the hardened shell.

Well, he's the one nuts enough to follow a girl after just a few days together. He really doesn't even know her that well.

What the hell was he thinking?

Glancing over his shoulder at her he catches her standing now, still at the bar as she leans over it to get the bartender's attention, it all comes back to him. Her shorts are perfectly short. He legs go on for days. God, her body is perfect. Oh yeah, he was thinking about _that_ when he made his decision.

With a sigh of true trepidation, Dean finishes up killing off the seven bucks she gave him. All songs chosen, Dean turns back to rejoin her at the bar. When he looks he sees a fresh bottle of beer waiting in front of his stool… but no Lizzy.

Dean makes his way, picking up the beer and taking a sip before scanning the place. He can see her grabbing a pool stick from the wall rack, three young men around the table already. It's clear from where he's standing that Lizzy is being evaluated by the men, her appearance the topic of heightened discussion. Dean doesn't fault them, even if he's got a little bit of green jealousy sitting like a rock in his stomach.

She walks back to the table with a smile he's never seen before. It's light and silly and when she trips over her own feet drunkenly she giggles in a completely fake way. The men don't seem to notice how fake that laugh is as they are all too happy to let her be sloppy. They make no bones about how much they're enjoying her presence, especially the dark haired douche-bag wearing a neon tank that decides now is the time to put his arm around her shoulders. She swats his chest and laughs a little after he says something in her ear, the display she makes quite obnoxious to match the personalities of the men around her.

And then tank-guy's hand slides down her back and lands on her tightly wrapped in denim ass.

This is where the protective nature in Dean comes flooding out.

Marching immediately over, he takes a deep breath. She must do this stuff all the time when alone on the road. Lizzy seems like a girl that knows how to handle herself but he can't just sit there and watch that. It's envy that's running through his veins, he knows it, but he ignores the recognition. He's just checking in on her. That's all… or so he tells himself….

"Hey!" Dean calls over in the most friendly and non-threatening voice he can muster in the moment when he gets close to the table, the three men and Lizzy looking over to him. He focuses on Lizzy. "You alright over here?"

"Oh, I'm fine!" she says with a slight little slur, getting out from under the arm around her shoulders to take a few steps towards him. "These guys are lettin' me play. They're so nice!"

"Good, good," Dean grins, glancing at the men. They're giving him the stink eye. He reaches for Lizzy's arm and gently pulls her closer. Very quietly, he asks her, "What are you doing?"

"Don't ruin this for me," she whispers, not an ounce of drunkenness in her annunciation.

"You're faking?" he questions, surprised.

"Go back to the bar and give me say… twenty minutes," she slickly tells him. "And be sure to watch closely. You could learn something." She then pushes him away from her quite suddenly. "Leave me alone, Dean! I'm having fun!"

He's shell-shocked by her flip from fake-drunk to sober and back to fake-hammered with a side of pissed at him.

"Is there a problem over here?" the tank guy asks, walking towards them with his chest puffed out and confidence on high since he has two friends to back him up.

"He thinks I suck and shouldn't play," Lizzy tells them, jerking a thumb at Dean.

"Dude, lay off her," the guy warns, walking between the two of them.

"I'm just checking in on her is all," Dean says, backing away a step and knowing he didn't want trouble.

"He thinks I'm too drunk to play for money," Lizzy keeps egging them on.

"It's only ten bucks, bro," tank guy tells him with annoyance. "She's fine."

"Fair enough," Dean nods and heads for the bar, giving up like Lizzy asked him to. What the hell she's up to he has no idea. The other night she was a shark at the table. What's with the theatrics? _And_ the throwing him under the bus just now?

"Ok, so… here's my ten," he hears her say behind him. "Let's play. Um, can you break? I kinda suck at it."

When she laughs again, once more the sound so fake in his ears, he rolls his eyes. Once again he has to wonder what the fuck he is doing following her.

* * *

It's been a good twenty minutes now and Lizzy had almost lost two games in row, down ten dollars from her first game and about to be down thirty more from the second. It was clear to Dean that the men had all intentions of letting her win the second one but she was just too terrible and they gave up.

He's totally confused.

On his third beer of the night, Dean looks at his phone when it vibrates in his pocket. It's a text from Lizzy.

_When this game is done wait two minutes and come try and stop me from going on. Trust me?_

He sighs. What the hell? He has no idea who this fucking girl is.

Watching closely, Lizzy leans into the tank-wearing guy with a hand to his chest, swaying a bit. She kept drinking, three more beers deep at this point, and now plays up her drunken antics. He hates whatever this is. And what he hates even more is that it's getting under his skin. She's touching that guy and even though he's starting to see where this is going… he doesn't like it.

Good thing he thinks it's been two minutes.

He walks right up to her with yet another hopefully nonthreatening smile on his face. "How's it going over here?"

"I lost money," Lizzy laughs as if it's hilarious.

"Oh good," Dean laughs right back, feeling the heat of them men around the table glaring at him for interrupting. "So… you done?"

"No!" she says loudly, hand in her pocket. "One more."

"Liz, I think you've lost enough," Dean plays along, thinking this is what she wanted him to come over for.

"I can win it back," Lizzy says with upset and further drunkenness. "M' getting' better."

"No, you're just getting drunker."

Lizzy goes to protest with her drunkass ways but she's caught off guard by the sincerity in his bright green eyes. He cares. It's a game to her but he's truly worried. Now she just feels bad.

"M' fine," she brushes off and plops a wad of bills on the table. "One-fifty. S'all I got."

"Lizzy…." Dean starts but gets stopped by tank-guy.

"Back off, man," tank guy decides to jump in.

"She's drunk," Dean points out, playing into it. He looks at her. "You lost enough. Time to go."

Dean reaches for her and she snatches her arm back. "You're not my boyfriend. I c'n do what I want."

"You heard her," Tank guy says, getting between them. "Back off, man."

With a quick look to Lizzy she makes it clear that she's fine. "Alright," Dean shrugs and turns around. He heads back to his place at the bar and sits, slumped back over his beer. With the pool table at his back, Dean keeps an ear out. He can hear the men talking to her, assuring her that it's alright, she can totally break. She'll do fine.

Dean laughs to himself when he hears the smack of a cue ball, the sound of sunken pool balls both satisfying and reassuring. She knows what she's doing. He'll give her that much.

"What the fuck?" he hears tank guy say when Lizzy sinks another shot.

"I'm getting good at this," Lizzy brightly says with a touch of sarcasm, Dean laughing to himself as he turns around in his stool. Leaning his elbows back onto the bar top, he watches the three men get angry. Lizzy walks around the table, suddenly fluid and smooth with her movements and not at all jerky and drunken. She quickly kills the table and wins.

"Wow," Lizzy stands up tall, smiling at the men as she grabs the cash from the table. "I really did get better. Ha."

"You bitch," tank guy name calls right away, shoving his pool stick onto the ground. He steps over towards her. "You set me up!"

"What!?" Lizzy asks with an attempt as innocence.

"You set me up!" he says again and walks right up to her.

Dean doesn't wait another second. He's on his feet and marching her way.

"I did no such thing!" Lizzy backs up a step, tank guy following.

"Lying bitch!" tank guy gets angrier with her dishonesty.

"Whoa! Hey!" Dean shouts as he steps between the man and Lizzy, his back to Lizzy. "Relax, man."

"Tell your bitch to give back that money."

"Ok, easy, douche bag," Dean rolls his eyes with a pure lack of impression at the guy. "Don't get all pissed because the chick beat your ass in pool. I get that she embarrassed you in front of your little girlfriends here but she won fair and square…."

"This doesn't concern you, asshole!" tank guy yells and shoves Dean in the chest.

"Watch it," he calmly responds and simply points at the guy, looking to diffuse rather than fight. Dean's not been in a whole lot of fights in the past. The few he had he's held his own but he's not a trained expert.

Before he knows what's happening Dean's getting shoved aside by Lizzy, his side hitting a table and knocking over the beer bottles and glasses on it. He watches in shock as she walks right up to the tank-wearing jerk and slugs him right in the jaw.

"I'm not a liar, dickbag!" she shouts as the man stumbles back a bit while holding his face. "I'm a good actress that just took your beer money! Deal with it!"

Dean can see how bad this is about to get. Quickly he reaches out for her, grabbing her arm while looking at the three mad as hell men standing around the pool table. "Look, we don't want any more trouble…."

"She started all the fucking trouble!" tank guy points out, making his way for her.

"Dude… back off," Dean says, pulling Lizzy behind him and standing in tank guy's way. "What are you gonna do, hit a girl?"

"I'll kick his ass if he does!" Lizzy shouts over Dean's shoulder.

"Liz, shut the fuck up!" Dean shouts back to her before pulling her arm as he heads for the door before it could get worse. "We're sorry. Leaving right now."

"I want my money!" the guys shouts to Dean as he leaves.

"Can't you just cut your losses, man?" Dean asks him as he walks to the door.

The man tries to stand taller. "Give me my money."

"Fuck you!" Lizzy shouts and tries to make a break for it, Dean grabbing her arm with both hands now.

"Come at me, bitch!"

Dean laughs at the guy. "I let her arm go and I get the feeling she's gonna kill you," he warns.

"What? That little cupcake?"

"Cupcake!?" Lizzy shouts and fights even harder to get free.

At this point he has no choice really. She's a fireball of anger and the guy is now asking for it. Knowing she'll probably be alright and he'll have her back if she's not, Dean lets go.

In an instant she's on the guy, throwing a straight jab at his nose with her left. She follows it up with a right to the throat that has him bent over in pain.

"Jesus," Dean mutters to himself, blown away by the display. It was amazing. And terrifying.

Lizzy scrambles to the guy once he doubles over, grabbing his shoulders and kneeing him in the gut. He falls to the floor and she tries to straddle him and wail on the unsuspecting man a little more.

"Fucking prick!" she says with fire but before she can inflict more damage Dean's grabbing her around the waist and pulling her off of him. "Call me cupcake again, fucker! I dare you!" she spits with venom while fighting against Dean's hold.

"He's done, Liz."

"I'll rip his dick off!"

"Look at him!" Dean says directly into her ear as he tries to get her on her feet. Once he manages, she stands still while he keeps a good hold on her observing the destruction. An easily broken nose, his face is already bruising where she got him in the jaw, and he's trying desperately to breathe as his friends surround him. "Before they send the cops after you I think we should go."

She sighs. "Shit. Yeah, ok."

"You good?" Dean asks her, making sure she's ok enough.

"I'm fucking fine," she says with a downer attitude and he lets her go. "Let's bounce."

* * *

"Hola, amigos!" Garth greets when the motel door opens. Lizzy walks through and avoids eye contact.

"Hey," she quietly says and pulls her hand from her pocket, tossing the wadded up dollars onto the bedspread at Garth's feet. "Made money."

"Nice work, LL cool Noon!" Garth says, sitting taller on the mattress and scooping up the bills. "We're gonna eat like kings for a couple days."

"I prefer to drink like a fish with it," Lizzy says and shuts the bathroom door.

"What the hell, man?" Dean asks, sitting down on the bed next to Garth's and speaking in a hushed tone.

"What?" he asks confused.

"She hustled a group of three dude, pissed them off, and then kicked one of their asses. _Thoroughly_."

"Yeah," he nods somewhat sadly. "That sounds like the kind of outburst she has now and then."

"Meaning!?"

"I take it you've never lived with an angry woman before."

"No… so?" Dean answers with confusion.

"So… women can be vicious," Garth shakes his head. "They can be sweet and happy one second and the next… off the rails. Just make sure you guard your balls when she gets like that."

"Shit," Dean shudders a bit, having been surrounded by men his whole life. He's never had to deal with mood issues like this before.

"Don't say anything about it around her either," Garth huffs a laugh and picks up the newspaper in his lap. "Now and then Lizzy gets mad real easy like. And she can't be helped. She's been through a lot and I don't think she's ever really dealt with it the right way. Just hang in there tonight and maybe for the morning tomorrow. She'll be fine after that."

Dean nods, propping his elbows on his knees as he sits on the edge of the mattress, hands clasped. "So you guys have worked together for a long time then."

"Three whole years of bliss," he answers, eyes scanning the comics.

"You know her pretty well I'm guessing?"

"Sister from another mister."

"Is she usually… combative?"

Garth's eyebrows fly up as he glances at Dean. "Wow. You really have no idea what you're in for, do you?"

"Guess not," Dean makes a very worried face.

"LL is… she's angry. And rightfully so," Garth tells him. "Like I said, she's been through a lot. Her entire family was taken from her when she was damn young. She's mad at the world. And sometimes… it comes out in a bad way."

"In bar fights?" Dean wonders.

"Generally," Garth nods. "We gotta keep an eye on her. She's gotten pretty roughed up a few times but she always comes out on top. Bobby trained her well. Maybe too well if you ask me."

"Yeah… Bobby," Dean thinks aloud. "What do I need to know about this guy before we get there?"

"Don't shit on Tori Spelling," Lizzy grumps out as she rejoins the room, a facecloth in her left hand. "And you either have to like listening to Joni Mitchell or you need to pretend to like listening to Joni Mitchell while there."

"And make sure you don't mess with his library," Garth adds. "It's organized to his liking. You take something out to read, you put it back_ exactly_ where you found it."

"And show up with a bottle of Glen Fiddich," Lizzy tacks on. "Get on his good side right off. It'll help him make the decision to keep you around and train you a whole lot easier." She grabs the ice bucket and walks out the motel door, leaving it open.

"Bobby's a tough nut to crack sometimes. He's rough around the edges but he's a really great guy," Garth assures. "Big old teddy bear if you ask me."

"He's the one that trained Liz?"

"Sure is."

"Then… I guess he's awesome," Dean huffs, having seen her in that fight. She was so quick, so strong and impressive that he's sure he'd be in good hands with this Bobby fellow.

Lizzy walks back into the room with a bucketful of ice. She kicks the door closed, places the bucket on the table, and grabs a large canister of salt. She starts to line the door.

"We expecting company?" Dean asks, knowing that salt is now one of the greatest weapons in his supernatural arsenal after reading her journal.

"We've pissed off a lot of things," she responds seriously. "Can't be too safe."

Once done she drops the canister, grabs the facecloth and ice, and plops onto her bed with Dean still sitting on it. She sits Indian-style in the middle of the mattress and warps her hand with the cloth before plunging it into the ice and wincing with the temperature change.

"Hand ok?" Dean wonders.

"It will be," Lizzy lets him know before gesturing to Garth. He tosses the remote over and catches it with her good hand, clicking the power button.

"You break it?" Garth checks.

"Nah," she shakes her head and flips around, settling on a rerun of The Office. A few minutes of quiet and she looks to Dean. "Hey, uh… I'm sorry if I caught you off guard with that whole… thing back at the bar."

"You definitely surprised me," he nods, turning to angle towards her. "I thought we were just gonna drink a little."

"When the opportunity to fuck some guys over and grift their money comes up, you take it," Lizzy informs him. "Hunting 101."

"Why?"

"How else are we gonna make money? I've never once gotten a paycheck for my hard work."

"So you just hustle pool?" Dean asks with shock.

"For cash on hand, hells yeah," Lizzy nods. "It's perfect. I get underestimated all the damn time. And… I'm a killer with a pool cue." She smirks with pride at him and Dean looks down at the ice bucket, impressed that she seems to not even feel it.

"Alright, but… what if you don't find anyone to hustle when you're broke?"

"Then I go for a good, old fashioned game of darts. Or I find a poker game. Whatever works."

"Huh," Dean nods while thinking about it. "Guess I better brush up on my skills then."

"Or you don't eat," Lizzy says without levity.

"Or can't afford shells when you really need 'em," Garth says, pulling his wallet out. He removes a credit card and tosses it to Dean. "For big stuff like motel rooms and weapons re-ups… and the occasional invaluable item for more specific hunts… we need plastic."

"B. Joe Armstrong?" Dean makes a face. "You a big Green Day fan?"

"Who isn't?"

Dean laughs quietly. "So… you're criminals?"

Lizzy and Garth look at each other for a beat before bursting out in laughter.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Lizzy laughs out. "I knew I brought you along for a reason. You're hilarious."

Dean just looks between them with confusion.

"Dude, half of the things we kill look like people. Hell, a lot of them have Social Security numbers and a fucking mortgage," Lizzy informs him. "In the eyes of the law… damn, we're outlaws and murderers."

"Between the killing, the grave desecrations, the credit fraud, arson…" Garth starts and Lizzy adds in.

"Grand theft auto, theft in general, impersonating law enforcement from local to federal levels, trespassing on crime scenes…."

"Trespassing on private property, kidnapping, stalking…."

"From murder in the first to jaywalking, I thing we've covered it," Lizzy tells him, patting Dean's shoulder. "And so will you very soon, grasshopper."

Dean nods but says nothing as he swallows dryly. The slight panic starts to creep in. Yet again he's finding himself wondering one very important question; what is he doing?

"You freaking out?" Lizzy questions, her ice-free hand now rubbing his shoulder soothingly, feeling his tension as if it's her own.

"I, uh…." He sits back a bit and turns enough to see her clearly. "I don't think I thought this through all the way."

"It happens," Garth comments quietly while reading, a smile on his face. Marmaduke always gets to him.

"No one is making you do this, Dean," Lizzy reminds him. "This life is solitary and dangerous. We're on wanted lists with warrants out for our asses. We have scars like crazy. Pain is a part of the job and I don't mean just physical. And our life expectancy… it's short."

He nods, thinking about what she says. Lizzy reads the conflict clearly. He's nervous and seriously unsure.

"How about this; you come with us tomorrow night and check out the Adam's House. Help us firsthand…."

"You said I was too green for that shit, and that's a direct quote," he says with annoyance.

"I changed my mind," she shrugs it off. "If you experience it and think no fucking way is this for you then we can drive you back to Cali the next day. If you still want in then we head to Sioux Falls. The decision is totally up to you. No one will pressure you."

He nods absently before looking her in the eye. "Ok. That sounds fair."

"Good," she grins. "But for now we sleep because we actually can. Night off and all."

"Doesn't happen often?"

"Not often enough," she lets him know, pulling her now reddened hand from the ice bucket, it half melted. She then nudges her head to the pullout couch. "It folds out."

Dean's eyes widen. "Seriously?"

"You thought you were sleeping in my bed?" she questions with shock.

"I just kind of assumed…."

"You know what happens when you assume, Dean," Garth taunts, eyes glues to the paper. He knows Lizzy all too well at this point. She's going to make him sweat this one out.

"Seems like I end up looking like an ass and then sleep alone," he complains.

"I'm sure it's… comfy…." Lizzy tries to upside but can't. She ends up laughing at him instead. "Sorry, rookie."

"I thought we had a, a thing," Dean looks at her funny with a face of fake hurt. He worries when her own face drops and she gets up from her seat.

"_You_ have a thing," she counters with.

"_I_ have a thing?" he disbelieves.

"Oh yeah." She nods.

"It's _just_ me?"

"All I'm saying is you're the one that professed your love for me…." she starts, emptying the bucket into the sink in the bathroom.

"I _never_ said I loved you," Dean denies right off. He'd never admit such a thing while she's being a cocky bitch. Though, the word wasn't all that scary….

"Whatever, point is you said you didn't want to say goodbye to me. You wanted to stick with me. Did you or did you not say that?"

Dean eyes her as she casually preps her toothbrush with toothpaste. She pauses and looks at him after a moment of silence.

"Well?"

"I said that," he grits through his teeth.

"And I never said a damn thing back," she points out, popping her toothbrush into her mouth and brushing away.

"That's cold, Liz," Dean tells her as she laughs and continues preparing for bed.

She finishes her teeth, washes her face, changes into a comfortable pair of cotton shorts and tight black V-neck t-shirt. She then climbs into her bed as Dean sets out to open the couch. Suddenly she feels bad. Glancing over at Garth and seeing him fast asleep on top of the covers, fully clothed and with a newspaper open on his lap, Lizzy sighs. She's nicer than this.

"Alright, tough guy. Enough torturing you. Get over here," she rolls her eyes and opens a corner of the comforter for him.

"You sure?" he asks, baffled by the sudden change.

"Yeah, I mean you might not last tomorrow so why not let you sleep in my bed for one night before you go home, right?" she smirks at him.

"Evil while being nice… who _are_ you?" he jokes, dropping the cushions back onto the couch before heading for her.

"I'm just me," she shrugs and lays down facing away from him, slightly awkward with it all.

But Dean's not. He moves right in behind her and pulls her in with an arm around her waist. He inhales in her long hair on the pillow, cherries filling his nose, and he sighs contented.

"Don't get used to this," she warns him but with being this unsure about how tomorrow and Bobby's will go she's really just speaking to herself. "You might not want me for much longer. I'm not that easy."

Dean smirks to himself with confidence. Now that he's close to her again he remembers why the risk is all worth it.

Kissing her neck lightly once, the move not meant to be sexy or have any specific goal, he hears her sigh contentedly once. It was just such a sweet and kind gesture. He then whisper into her ear, "You ain't getting rid of me that easily."

* * *

"Fuck, I don't get it," Lizzy complains as she and Dean meet back up with Garth in the first floor foyer of the Adams House. "We got nothing."

"Nada here either," Garth says, turning off his EMF meter. "Not even a needle jump."

"No cold spots, no movement, no nothing," Lizzy frustrates. "Two nights in a row. What the hell is happening here?"

"Well, I say it's on to plan B," Garth decides.

"What's that?" Dean wonders.

"We go digging," Garth smiles and heads out of the house through the front door.

Confused and a little worried, Dean looks over to Lizzy with raised eyebrows, silently asking for what the hell is happening.

"We have to go dig up a body," Lizzy says in clarification.

"Uh, right… to salt it and burn it?" Dean tries to figure it all out with all the reading he's been doing.

"Such a good student," Lizzy smacks him on the shoulder.

"The best, baby," he smirks right back and leans down, kissing her quickly. The movement is oddly comfortable, like they've always interacted that way, yet it's been five days… five days in which they fucked like crazed rabbits, she tried to kill his little brother, and she exposed him to the truth out in the world before changing the course of his life completely. He doesn't think too hard about this strange level of comfort they have on purpose. He not ready for it to mean something bigger than he can handle. "Who we digging up?"

"Garth is convinced that it's good old W.B. doing the scare-fest so we're heading for him. He's buried close by."

"Well alright," Dean nods. "Let's dig up a dead guy!"

She laughs at his green enthusiasm. "You have no idea what you're in for."

"No, I'm sure I don't," he agrees.

"Well, it'll be a learning experience," she winks, smacks him on the ass playfully before walking out the front door to get going on their grave digging night.

Once he knows she's not looking at him, Dean grabs a small, two inch picture frame off of a small antique accent table by the door. He gives it a good look and assumes the photo has to be of the Adams family from when they were all alive and living in the house, the fireplace in the background the same one he remembers seeing in the living room. With his half-cocked idea in place, he pockets the tiny framed picture and heads out with his little crew.

* * *

It's silent as the three reenter the motel room after a full night of digging, burning, and re-burying a decades-long dead body. But the job is done and the hunters and their apprentice are tired as they pray they got the job done right.

"I'm gonna sleep for days," Dean comments, shucking out of his dirt-stained jacket as he's nearly dead on his feet.

"Or for a couple hours," Lizzy tells him, grabbing her bag and heading for the bathroom. "We're gonna leave by eight in the morning."

"It's three-thirty!" Dean mentions with surprise.

"It's a tough schedule for hunters. Might as well get used to it," Lizzy shrugs. "Dibs on first shower."

As Lizzy disappears into the bathroom Garth heads for the main door again.

"Where you off to?" Dean questions him.

"Decompression," Garth says, taking an old beat up backpack and slinging it over his right shoulder.

"Meaning?"

"I need to meditate," Garth tells him and Dean rolls his eyes. "Hey man, you don't know the toll a life like this can take. I gotta stay Zen. My yogi taught me…."

"Yogi? Like the bear?" Dean asks with confusion.

"No, my spiritual guide. He taught me several techniques to keep my chi in check. After a hunt I take an hour to balance out and I'm good to go."

Dean just nods and accept it despite not at all understanding the hippie crap Garth speaks of. He can't comment though since, once again, he's not totally in the life. What does he know?

"Later, dude," Garth says, flashes a peace sign and heads out.

The motel door clicks shut and something echoes in Dean's head. One hour. That's how long Garth will be gone. He then looks to the closed bathroom door. He could really use a shower….

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Sighing under the spray of the water, an actually hot motel shower for once, Lizzy closes her eyes. The water running down her may wash away the dirt but it isn't doing much for her guilt level. She's still unsure of this whole Dean-becoming-a-hunter thing.

Sure, she likes him. Hell, she more than likes him. He's beautiful, he's smart, he's funny, he works with his hands, he's incredible in bed… but keeping that around her in her line of work feels awfully selfish. She's going to ruin his life. She can just feel it. He needs to be back home, safe and able to help out his brother when he needs it. This is wrong.

Alright, tomorrow she buys him a bus ticket first thing and sends him back. It's the right thing to do….

She hears the bathroom door creak open.

"Dude, wait your turn," Lizzy rolls her eyes at the interruption as she starts to lather up her hair with shampoo.

She doesn't hear a response as she closes her eyes and keeps lathering her long dark hair.

With a wrinkled expression she tries again. "Hello? I called dibs. You gotta wait."

The shower curtain moves sharply and a cold puff of air hits her wet body. She opens her eyes to see what's happening and just catches Dean's form stepping over the tub edge before the sting sets in.

"Ow! Shit!" she yells when the dripping shampoo suds burn her eyes. She turns away from him and towards the spray, washing the soap off her face as quickly as she can. "Damn it."

"Crap, you ok?" Dean asks behind her and she swears again. "Ok, I totally didn't mean for that to happen."

"I hope not," she quips angrily, wiping her eyes until the pain subsides. "Hell are you doing?"

"Would you believe I'm conserving water?" he asks with a cheeky tone.

"Dude, please don't do this," Lizzy sighs, already picturing him behind her, all naked and wet and… no. Stop it. "Poor Garth…."

"Is off _decompressing_," Dean says with emphasis, showing how much he doesn't quite get the man. "We have an hour and a room to ourselves so I figured…."

"You'd catch me off guard and burn my retinas off?" she remarks quickly, opening her eyes and blinking away the last of the pain.

"No, I figured I'd catch you off guard and thank you," he counters, light hands landing on her hips before skimming around her waist. He steps into her, her back pressed to his front, and kisses her neck lightly.

"Thank me? What for?" she asks with total confusion.

"You're taking a chance on me," he tells her like it should be obvious and kisses her neck again, feeling her stiffened posture relax a little. "You're helping me make my life have meaning. You didn't need to do that."

"You didn't give me much of a choice, did you?" she huffs a quiet laugh and leans her weight back into him, her hands closing over his around her middle. She's relaxing a little even though she shouldn't. She's just so comfortable with him. Being that close to him makes her feel better, calmer, and completely _good_.

"If I want something… I do everything I can to get it," Dean tells her with confidence, not just talking about hunting.

Lizzy hears him loud and clear. He still wants her. Even after seeing her anger and her ugly side, even after spending a night digging up a dead person with her, he wants her. She turns her head around to catch a glimpse of him, his green eyes bright as he smiles just slightly at her. "You're insane."

"Because I want to help people?" Dean asks her with surprise. "Then sister, I hate to tell you, you're as insane as me."

"No… you're insane for still wanting me," she huffs a light, slightly sad laugh.

Dean's heart drops. What was meant to be a moment for some seriously good sex is turning into something far too downer for his liking. Taking his arms out from around her, Dean turns her gently around to face him. "Why would wanting you make me a crazy person?" he wonders, true confusion in his expression.

She forces a smile on her face but she can't maintain it. Her face drops. "Dean, I'm a mess," her voice cracks a little. "I mean, just a few days around me and you have to know what I'm talking about. You've seen it."

"Who isn't a mess these days?" he laughs a little, trying to break the tension. It doesn't work.

"I've been through a lot. _A lot_," she explains and reaches up to cup his face, her thumb wiping away a streak of grave dirt on his stubbled jaw. "You don't need that in your life. You're a really good guy. You need a good girl."

"_You're_ a good girl," Dean says, brow lowered with still running confusion.

"I was," she tells him. "But I've done things… I'm not proud of the things I've done in the past. You don't know much about me and I'm not always… I make mistakes. And I choose wrong in life. And eventually I'm gonna disappoint you."

"Why would you think that?" he asks, hands on her waist at each side, eyes locked on hers instead of on her naked form.

She takes a second to just look at him, hands drifting down to the front of his chest as if ready to push him away before saying, "I'm not a good person."

"I can't believe that's true," Dean shakes his head, a hand to her cheek. "You spend your life helping people. You're good."

He can tell by her eyes alone that she doesn't believe it.

"I'm gonna make you see it," Dean promises her. "I am gonna make you see that you're as awesome as I _know_ you are."

She laughs a little at that. "That sounds like a campaign promise."

He smiles. "Well, it _is_ a promise."

"You might be the dumbest guy I've ever met," she tells him, her voice still wavering as she leans into him, arms coming around his back as she hugs him in thanks. For the first time in a very long time she's not feeling like she's alone. That's an amazing feat.

"A _sexy_ dumb guy?" he questions, his voice going up at the end with much hope. After all, they are in a shower together, no clothes on, and the opportunity shouldn't be wasted. Watching her all day, sleeping next to her last night… and doing nothing about it? He needs this.

She laughs, Dean doing the same with relief as she lightens up, and Lizzy takes the moment to listen to the rough rumble of it in his chest while her ear is pressed to him. Closing her eyes, she keeps smiling. She has these couple second flashes every now and then when around Dean where she feels like she deserves this, like she's earned the right to allow someone in. Like she's earned the right to feel the way he makes her feel.

But, crap! It's too scary to let it happen. She can't fall for this guy. She has work to do and he can't come with her. She's too deep.

The back and forth her brain has been nonstop doing is exhausting.

Lizzy lifts her head to look at him, to tell him that maybe they shouldn't do this, but he presses his lips to hers faster than her brain could think. And oh yeah, there it is again. That feeling that she can't put words to. It's so strong. And it's so… right.

Kissing him back, Lizzy lets her guard down again. What the hell, right? Her life is short. He's fun.

This battle in her head is never going to stop.

Hands coming to either side of his neck, she delves deeper into whatever this thing is between them. She shuts off her brain, another amazing feat only reached when he's near, and goes with it.

And Dean can feel the shift. When she melts her body against his, her tongue lightly sweeping across his, Dean smiles against her lips. This is the best he's ever felt in his life. This right here is something exceptional.

"Hurry up and get the dirt off of you," Lizzy says to him in a rush while stepping away from him. She grabs the bar of soap and plops it into his palm. "I'll meet you out there."

Lizzy disappears from the shower, closing the bright orange-flowered curtain closed behind her and Dean moves quickly. He lathers up, rinses off, and jumps out of the shower as absolutely quickly as he can, all while sporting a serious hard on at the very thought of what's waiting for him.

He dries off in a flash, the discomfort of the scratchy towel barely registering, and wraps the white linen around his waist. When he opens the bathroom door that stupid grin he's been sporting for a few days comes right back.

"Took you long enough!" Lizzy complains as she stretched out sideways across the comforter of the bed closest to the door. Her damp hair is all fanned out, her tight form fully on display, and she pulled out her iPod dock. She has Led Zeppelin III playing.

"Oh God," he says very hushed to just himself as he watches her roll over, her perfectly round ass on full display. "Marry me?"

"Fuck no," she laughs out. "Get over here. And lose the towel, would you?"

* * *

It's the movement next to her that wakes her up from an absolutely beautiful sleep. What a shame. It's been maybe years since she's been able to have a good solid couple hours of restful, peaceful sleep like that. Now she's about ready to kill the man next to her.

With a groan of annoyance, Lizzy rolls over.

"Dean!?" she panics right away when she gets a good look at him lying next to her on his back.

Dean's face is frozen in fear as his wide eyes are fixated at the ceiling above him. His body is rigid with fright.

"Dean! What the hell!?" she shouts in his face as she scrambles out of the blankets and climbs on him. "Garth! Help me out here!"

"What?" Garth asks as he sits up, confused. He glances to the other bed after wiping his eyes and sees Lizzy straddling Dean's hips. "Aw, LL, not while I'm in here…."

"He needs help!" Lizzy clarifies as she shakes Dean's shoulders, his eyes still fixated and unmoving. He doesn't even see her hunched over him. "Dean! Come on, talk to me! _Dean_!"

The man doesn't move still. He just remains frozen in fear, not breathing.

"Fuck!" Lizzy shouts and pushes him in the chest when she can't snap him out of it. "What do I do here!?"

"What's in his hand?" Garth asks, pointing to the item Dean's fingers are wrapped around and clutching to for dear life.

"What!?" Lizzy shouts with her fears and looks to his left hand. After working at it hard for a few seconds she manages to pry it out of his incredibly tight hold. "It's a picture frame. The hell did this come from?"

"Who cares!? Burn it!"

Listening to Garth, Lizzy sprints off the bed and heads for her bag. She pulls out lighter fluid and douses the frame on the carpet. She then grabs a small canister of salt, pours some on hastily, and pulls out a book of matches. Lighting one, she drops it onto the frame and it catches fire instantly.

Then Lizzy turns sharply and dives back onto Dean's frozen form. "Dean? You there!?" She shakes him with a hand to either side of his face. "Dean!?"

All at once Dean inhales long and hard, his eyes moving from their fixed point. He focuses on her and coughs a couple times after getting a good lungful.

"Fuck, thank God," Lizzy sighs and closes her eyes for a second once her panic starts to ebb. She wasn't prepared to have something attack Dean like that… or at least not as quickly as the first hunt they went on. That was horrifying.

"What just happened?" Dean asks, panting to catch his breath as his fear-filled face starts to return to normal, his head dropped back onto his pillow as he can finally relax.

Lizzy flops down onto him, pulling her arms around his neck and holds him in tight. She's washed over with relief, the strength of which pummels her in the moment, and in her thankful state she just needs to be close to him and make sure it's real, that he's still there.

Dean hugs her back for a moment, surprised by her reaction. She's so tough that he didn't expect this.

"You ok?" Lizzy asks him, quiet and into his ear.

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine," she sits up, rubs at her face, looking to rid it of the overly concerned expression she knows she was just wearing. "Shit. You scared me."

"I can tell," he quips, looking up at her as she sits on her hips.

"What just happened to you?" Lizzy asks. "What did you see?"

Dean blinks a few times and tries to come to terms with what his dreaming mind just dealt him. "I think this hunt just got into my head. I had the weirdest dream."

"Not a dream, hermano," Garth tells him, getting out of bed before stomping out the fire on the carpet.

"What the hell is that!?" Dean asks with pure alarm when he sees the flames.

"Answers first. What did you see?" Lizzy tries again.

"A… a woman," Dean recalls as she sits down next to him in the bed. "She was… she was wearing a dress with… polka dots. And she was looking at me funny."

"She was in this room?" Lizzy wonders, glancing at Garth and he gets the silent direction.

"Yeah. She was… like, floating over me. And she looked pissed. Like, told her I noticed that her kid looked like the mailman kinda pissed."

Lizzy grabs her phone from the nightstand as Garth sweeps the room with an EMF meter. The needle spikes. "LL, we got residual energy like a mofo up in here."

"This her?" Lizzy asks Dean, holding her phone out with a vintage picture of a woman on it.

"Shit, yeah," Dean nods. "That's definitely her."

Lizzy sighs and ducks her head. "We burned the wrong Adams."

"What do you… is that Mary Adams?" Dean asks and points to the phone.

"That's her alright. She's the one offing people that go into her house. It makes sense." Lizzy shakes her head and the smell of burnt carpet fills her nose. "Hey, uh… how did that picture frame get in here?"

Dean looks guiltily at her and swallows hard. When he took it he wasn't aware of her massive anger management problems.

She picks up on his expression instantly. "Dean. Where did the frame come from?" Her voice is dangerously edged.

"I… might have… taken it from the Adams House on my way out."

"_You what_!?" she screams and stands up out of bed, fists balled. "_Why_!?"

"Seemed to make sense," Dean shrugs and sits up. "Only thieves were getting attacked so… I became a thief."

"Oh, no," Garth shakes his head at the news. "Not wise, man."

"It helped us solve it though… didn't it?" he fights back.

"You could have gotten killed!" Lizzy fires out and starts marching around the room, packing up her things to keep from beating the hell out of the very stupid man in the room. "You _never_ use yourself as bait! She could have fucking killed you!"

"But she didn't. You guys knew what to do…."

"You can't bank on that, jackass!" she screams, throwing a t-shirt at his head and hitting him in the face with it. "I will _not_ have your blood on my hands, I told you that!"

"I'm alive, Liz," Dean reminds.

"Not for long you're not," she grumbles with hatred, packing up with sharp, furious movements. "Jesus Christ. What would I have done if you…." She stops there, clenched jaw as she refuses to finish that sentiment. "Fuck you."

"Wow, thanks," Dean answers back with sarcasm.

"Pack your shit."

"Why?"

Lizzy grabs a pair of jeans and yanks them on. "We have to dig up Mary and burn her ass. Let's go."

His eyes bug out. "We just did that."

"So!?"

"I'm sore…"

"Then fucking cry about in the car on the way back to the cemetery. Let's go!"

* * *

She's been a machine since they arrived. Lizzy hasn't stopped for a second, digging without a word and without even a one second break. The focus, the determination, and the anger with Dean have fueled her drive.

And now Dean's terrified of her.

He's kept his mouth shut. Navigating the emotional landscape of Elizabeth Noonan is something he's not sure how to manage quite yet. All he knows is if he sweet talks her she'll eventually become putty in his hands but if he angers her he needs to wear a cup.

Right now… well, he wishes they'd been able to stop at an athletics store before they arrived at the cemetery.

It's been an hour. His arms burn like he's never felt before as this is the second grave in one day he's had to dig but the other two look unaffected. Garth took the first shift with Lizzy while Dean did lookout duty. Dean then offered to switch after a good hour and Garth took it. Of course he offered the switch to Lizzy first but she just turned him down, a gritty 'no thanks'. Those are her only two words in two hours.

He can see the sheen of sweat coating her skin as she's down to her tank top and jeans in the cool night air. She doesn't shiver, she doesn't blink. She's still working her anger out.

"Liz, why don't you take a break?" Dean asks of her, sticking his shovel into the dirt and pausing in the good solid five foot hole they've made.

"No thank you," she answers, not an ounce of friendly warm-fuzzies in her tone.

"Seriously, take a second," Dean worries about her. "You have to be exhausted…."

"I'm fine," she answers and cuts him off. She's not exactly ready to speak to him.

With a sigh, Dean closes his eyes and prepares. He knows what he has to do but he's so stubborn it already kills him. "Look, I'm sorry about… what I did."

"What did you do?" Lizzy asks, not stopping.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks with confusion.

"What are you sorry for?" she clarifies, hauling more dirt up and out of the hole.

He doesn't get it. Not quite. "I'm sorry I took the frame."

"And?"

Shaking his head, Dean doesn't get what more she wants. He look at her with confusion. When their eyes meet he can see the anger bubbling.

"I was hoping you'd be sorry for going against us on the very first hunt you've ever been on. Damn it. I should never have brought you into this."

"Liz, I…."

"And I thought you might be sorry for, I don't know, possibly getting yourself killed!" she shouts at him. "What the hell good are you to us if you're gonna be that fucking stupid!? You could have died!"

"I didn't!"

"Not the point!" Lizzy gets louder. "If I hadn't woken up when I did you'd be a fucking dead man right now!"

"But instead we figured this whole thing out because of me," Dean tries his best to rebut. That has to be worth something to her. "Right? If I hadn't taken the frame how would we know it was Mary and not W.B?"

Lizzy clenches her jaw, drops her shovel and takes a deep breath. She starts out in a calmer tone. "Your life is worth far more than just figuring out a fucking hunt." She take another breath. "You can't just use yourself as bait. And you can't do that without telling us. We need to be able to back you up!"

"Liz, honestly, I forgot I even had the damn frame," Dean tells her honestly. "After digging my first grave and burning up a decaying corpse it slipped my mind. I thought we dealt with it and that was that."

"Rookie mistake," she grits out.

"And I'm a rookie!" Dean reminds her.

"I shouldn't have taken you to that house," she shakes her head and picks up her shovel again. She hauls more dirt while telling him, "It's my fault. You weren't ready."

"Don't blame yourself for my mistake," Dean starts to get annoyed too.

"Just dig," Lizzy says with a tired voice. "We need to drive to Bobby's after this. I need to crash out."

When she says it he can hear and see the tiredness all over her.

"Liz… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," Dean says very quietly, giving in, no more excuses. This time she has every right to be pissed off to high hell over what he did. This is her world and she let him in… only to have him fuck it up royally.

She glances over to him, catching his eyes and the sheer sincerity in them. He knows he fucked up and now he's somehow made her feel guilty for being angry at him.

"It's ok, Dean," he assures him. "Just… let's just dig and get out of here before the sun comes up. Don't want to piss off the normies once they start their days."

He nods and pulls his shovel from the dirt. They dig in a much more companionable silence for another fifteen minutes. When Dean's shovel hits something solid they're in the home stretch.

"Alright, tough guy," Lizzy starts as she grabs Garths hand, his help needed to pull her out of the hole. "Break 'er open."

"Aw, you'll let me do this one?" he jokes a little while he raises the shovel overhead just as he saw her do the first time with W.B. He swings down hard and breaks through the brittle wood of the coffin quite easily. "Piece of pie."

"You mean cake?" Garth asks.

"Nah. Pie's way better," he answers in a huff as he winks at Lizzy. The two hunters help pull him out and they get the salt and lighter fluid.

"Light it," Lizzy says to Dean once the body is salt and accelerant covered. He grins, looking at this opportunity as the peace offering he prays it is. She's smiling. She might be forgiving him for his fuck up.

"Would love to," he assures her and takes the metal zippo. He flicks it open and gets the flame going. Holding it out over the hole in the ground he sighs. "That wasn't so bad…."

Before he can drop the lighter something takes him off his feet and shoves him back a good ten feet, his back clipping a marble headstone and making him tumble off to the side roughly.

"Fuck!" Lizzy yells as she grabs her salt round-loaded sawed-off from where it was propped against Mary Adams' tombstone on the ground.

Dean groans in a heap on the grass, rolling over slowly as the pain hits him _everywhere_. On his back, he opens his eyes in time to see the ghost of Mary appear over him, floating there and staring at him with a very angry expression much like she did back at the motel.

_Leave my house alone!_

He hears her voice fire out the furious demand before he can feel her hands wrap around his neck, choking him hard.

"Gah…. Uh…." He can't call out for help but he hopes his backup is close by.

A shotgun blast goes off and right before Dean's eyes the ghost dissipates.

"Get the other lighter!" he hears Lizzy shout, her voice getting closer by the second.

"Can't find it!" Garth yells back.

"Jesus, Dean! Are you ok?" Lizzy asks, diving onto the ground next to him. She presses her hands to his chest and searches him for serious injury.

"What the hell just happened?" he groggily asks.

"Are you hurt?" Lizzy keeps worrying, looking all over for blood or signs of anything off.

"Back hurts… oh, shit!" Dean tries to answer her but Mary comes back.

Appearing on the opposite side of Dean than Lizzy's on, Mary materializes and takes one look at the female hunter. She shoves Lizzy in the chest and she tumbles back away from Dean, the blow harsh. Mary then returns to Dean, her hands outstretched in attempt to return to killing him, when she suddenly flames up and burns away into thin air.

"Wha… what the… fuck!? What happened!?" Dean asks, lifting his head to find Garth over the open flame of the grave, a fire now roaring.

"Found the other lighter!" he shouts to Dean triumphantly. Huge grin on his face. "Just in time, huh!?"

"Holy shit," Dean sighs and drops his head back onto the grass, the pain throbbing in his back and neck. With eyes closed, he yells out, "Liz, you good?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic," she answers with a groan of her own, clearly in pain as she lays on the grass five feet from him. "You, princess?"

Dean huffs a laugh and looks up at the stars above. "Just peachy."

So this is what they do. He can't help but laugh a little to himself over the world he's about to face head on now.

"You still wanna go to Bobby's?" Lizzy asks within a struggle through the pain.

"Dare you to try and stop me," Dean laughs, then moans with the pain flaring up in his back. "Ugh, crap…."


	44. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 7)

When the car comes to a stop Dean immediately gets confused.

"A junkyard?" he asks, looking out at their destination through the backseat windows. It's a lovely, dark blue, two-story home that's clean and has been well kept sitting amongst a very organized and quite extensive looking car scrap yard.

"It's Bobby's day job," Lizzy answers while throwing the car in park and turning off the engine. She practically leaps out the door once they've arrived, clearly excited to have arrived. "Bobby!"

The side door opens a few seconds later to reveal an older man with a perfectly trimmed beard, thinning short-cut hair, an ironed and buttoned up plaid shirt, and a wide smile on his face.

"That my girl?" he asks excitedly as he laughs, watching Lizzy practically sprint for him. She leaps onto him, her arms locked around his neck, and they embrace tightly with wide smiles. "Ah, I missed you, young lady."

"Missed you too, Bobby," she says quietly, the sentiment nothing but true. She always misses him dearly while on the road. Coming to Bobby's always felt like coming home… or at least to the place that's felt about as close to home as possible once hers was gone.

Dean gets out of the car with Garth, all the while watching Lizzy be warm and completely open to another human being. Her obvious love for this guy is almost odd to him. She's been close to the vest for the most part, aside from when they were alone and naked. This is refreshing. This give him hope for him in the future concerning her.

When they finish their hug, Lizzy backs up. "How you doing, old man?"

"Watch it," he points at her. "It's been quiet. Few calls. Mari says hello."

"Ugh, I miss her!"

"I tried to get her to come in for a few days but she refused. You know how she is…."

"A stubborn mule." Lizzy sigh, worried for her friend, as Garth heads over.

"Robert!" Garth grins hard and holds out a hand.

"How you doing, son?" Bobby asks while shaking. "She bein' nice to you."

"Never."

"Good girl," he winks at Lizzy before spotting Dean meandering over. "And who's this strapping young man?"

"The name's Dean, sir," Dean greets properly, offering his hand.

Bobby shakes it while eyeing him suspiciously, getting a feeling from his posture and way about him. "You a military man?"

"No, sir. But my dad is. Marines. Served in Viet Nam. Held the rank of Corporal before leaving service."

Bobby nods. "That's quite respectable."

"I like to think so," Dean flashes a bright smile with pride. John may have turned out a mess but before that he was quite the do-gooder and exceptional man. Dean still has respect for that.

"And what is the son of a Marine doing on my doorstep with two of my favorite kids?" Bobby wonders.

"Well, sir… I was hoping to sit down and speak to you all about that, if you'd let me."

"Balls," Bobby instantly bitches rolls his eyes before staring at Lizzy. "I told you, I'm not taking in any strays. _You_ were bad enough."

"Hear him out," Lizzy rebuts immediately, looking to ease the situation. "He's a good guy…."

"Aren't they all?" Bobby grumbles. "And that's just all the more reason to _not_ do this to him."

"I'm just saying to give him a chance…."

"You need to learn the word no, Lizzy…."

"Mister Singer?" Dean interrupts and Bobby looks right at him. "Please don't blame Lizzy for my being here. I practically jumped in her car and refused to get out. This was something I wanted, and still do want. I'm just asking that you hear me out. If you don't like what I have to say then I'll leave, no harm done."

Bobby huffs disappointedly, hoping he wouldn't hear such a well thought out answer. "Damn it. C'mon in." He waves them all to follow and they all make their way to the kitchen of the immaculately clean and organized house. "Karen!?"

"Yeah!?" they hear a female voice call back from the second floor.

"We got company!"

"Oh good! It's about time!"

Bobby smiles at Lizzy and winks. "She's been dying for you to get back for days."

"It's been months… Hello!" the blond, quite beautiful woman greets when she rushes into the room in her casual jeans and cardigan outfit. Her welcoming grin paired with the spark in her eyes sets the room at ease instantly, even Dean. "Lizzy!"

"Hi, Karen," Lizzy smiles wide and gives her yet another very warm hug.

"How are you, dear?" she questions, a hand to the back of her head as she holds her in tightly. "Still in one piece?"

"Just barely but yeah," Lizzy laughs a little, the kindness resetting her.

"Well, it's good to have you back," Karen tells her, looking her over once she ends the hug and holds her by the shoulders. "You know how I worry about you."

"Yeah, too damn much," Lizzy laughs. "Karen, this is Dean." She gestures to the tall man at her side.

Karen's eyes go wide for a split second when she gets a good look at him. She then glances at Lizzy knowingly as she silently sets up some girl talk for later before looking Dean in the eye, the young man smiling politely at her. "It's nice to meet you, Dean."

"You too, Missus Singer," Dean returns, shaking her hand also and keeping his smile in place. Women are easy for him to get on the good side of. He keeps grinning and sees his opportunity. He can get in with Bobby through Karen if he plays his cards right.

"Will you be joining us for dinner?"

"Dean will be joining us for a few days," Lizzy jumps in and answers for him.

"Maybe," Bobby tacks on with a grumble, unsure of what's happening here.

"Robert!" Karen scolds immediately as she walks towards Garth. "They just got here. Be kind."

Bobby just rolls his eyes.

"Aw, Garth, dear! How are you doing?" Karen hugs him tightly and moves on.

"You know me, Kare-bear. I'm fine," he tells her and smiles through the hug.

Dean can see already just how important these young hunters are to the Singers. And vice versa.

"Well, who's hungry?" Karen asks, inviting everyone in. "I have a strawberry rhubarb pie cooling that should be ready to eat."

When Dean's eyes bug out of his head with excitement Lizzy laughs at him. "Karen, you have a new best friend."

* * *

"This is excellent, Missus Singer," Dean says with a mouthful of his last bit of pie.

"Thank you. And you already said that," Karen laughs hard at him, the man reduced to a child over something as simple as a slice of pie.

"I know," he starts, licking some filling off the pad of his thumb before swallowing down the last of the bite. "But I mean it. It's been years since I have a good strawberry rhubarb pie." Honestly, it's been about since his mother passed that he's eaten that specific dessert. She was a champion at strawberry rhubarb pie and Dean quickly learned that once his mother wasn't around to make it that all others paled in comparison. Until now he's even refused to try any others, only accepting Karen's for the sake of politeness.

"Well, you're too kind. And please, call me Karen."

Dean nods his agreement and licks his fork before putting it down.

Bobby, eyeing him from across the kitchen table with his arms crossed the entire time, finally speaks up. "So, Dean. What brings you to my house?"

Getting suddenly nervous, he thinks for a second. "I need your help, sir."

"With?"

"Well, I've just been informed that there's a lot of evil out there that I never knew about before. I need help learning about how to deal with it so I can protect my little brother from it," Dean answers in the only way he knows how.

"What's the problem with your bother?" Bobby's face wrinkles with confusion.

"Uh… Dean's last name is Winchester," Lizzy cuts in and bites the bullet. "He's Sam's older brother."

Bobby's eye go wide with upset as he sits up taller. "Why the hell is Sam Winchester's _brother_ in my house?"

No one speaks at first when they can feel the anger growing by the second in the older man.

"Ain't Sam supposed to be dead by now!?" Bobby then shouts when he never gets a response.

"No one's killing my brother," Dean interjects sternly right there. It's an automatic response that just punches out of him.

"I'm sorry for the circumstances, son, but your brother is dangerous. And _someone_ was supposed to take care of that," he says, eyeing Lizzy evilly.

"I couldn't do it," Lizzy owns up while looking down at her half eaten pie. Whenever she lets Bobby down she feels a level of shame she doesn't know how to handle.

"What was that?" Bobby leans closer when she's too quiet.

"I couldn't do it, Bobby," she says louder and looks him in the eye. "I met Sam. He's a good guy…."

"And you know what his destiny is supposed to be," Bobby stays mad.

"And it was like Andy all over again," Lizzy fires back. "Sam is smart and kind… and his abilities are in check. He gets visions. That's it. He can't control people or things. He's not a threat and now he's on our radar."

"And what if he's the big kahuna just like that demon told us?"

"Then we deal with it when he starts to turn," Lizzy says. "I mean, come on, Bobby. You sent me out to kill people. _People_! _ME_! What the _fuck_ did you expect?"

"Language."

"Sorry," she rolls her eyes with the parenting.

This is where Karen can't keep quiet any longer. "Dear?" She places a light hand on Bobby's forearm from her seat next to him at the large dinner table in the kitchen. "She makes a good point. You know Lizzy doesn't have that kind of… violence in her."

"There ain't nothin' violent about it," Bobby disagrees with her, his voice going softer now that he's talking to his wife. "This is about saving lives…."

"Which is why Lizzy is so bad at taking them," she points out. "Our girl is not that way. And you're the one that taught her how to save innocent people in the first place…."

"Sam ain't exactly innocent…."

"Yes he is," Dean cuts Bobby off. "Sammy's not evil. And I don't care about this Azazel, destiny, child-leader bullshit. I don't care what happened to him as a baby. Sammy's a good person. He's never hurt anyone and now that he knows about his fate or whatever… he'll make sure he stays on the straight and narrow."

"What if he can't?" Bobby turns it around. "He's never gone up against anything remotely like a demon before and Azazel is nothing to underestimate."

"That's why I'm here," Dean says with determination, voice serious as he drops his fork and folds his hands onto the table top. He looks Bobby in the eye and holds the contact, showing how serious he is about this. "I need you to get me ready for that."

"Balls! I knew it!" Bobby complains, snapping is focus onto Lizzy. "I told you I wasn't training anymore kids after you!"

"I know you aren't cool with it…." she tries to explain but Bobby keeps on going.

"Because I don't want to end any more lives!" Bobby keeps getting angrier. "I ruined yours. After that… I won't be responsible for dragging more people into this muck! I won't ruin any others!"

"Mine's already ruined, sir," Dean says easily, knowing it's true.

"No it ain't, son. Not yet," Bobby refuses.

"You're wrong," Dean says, certainty there in his tone. "Sir, the second I knew something was wrong with my brother… my life is already ruined. You didn't do that. Azazel did."

Bobby just sighs as Karen smiles softly at his side, already knowing how good an answer Dean just gave. He's in.

"I just want to help make sure my brother stays a college kid and stays on the path to a good life," Dean keeps going. "He's supposed to end up a rich lawyer with a smoking hot wife, a couple kids, and a retirement home in Del Boca Vista. He's not supposed to go bad. He can't. I… I can't see that happen. He's had a raw enough deal since he was a baby. He's worked too hard for the life he's been building for himself out of absolutely nothing. I'll protect him from whatever demon shit is headed his way or… I'm gonna damn well die trying."

And now even Lizzy has her head ducked as she attempts to hide the smile trying his hardest to break onto her face. That was perfect. Bobby's a tough guy but he's a softy for anyone with their heart in the right place. Plus, Dean's conviction paired with his love for his family and his need to do the right thing? She's adoring him right now, her heart swelling.

"Damn, Deanie-boy," Garth laughs a little. "Pretty good sales pitch. Don't you think, Bobby?"

"It wasn't bad," Bobby grumbles unhappily, once more sitting back with arms grumpily crossed.

"I brought Dean here because he _has_ to be here," Lizzy tells Bobby, dropping a hand on top of Dean's folded ones as she sits next to him and shows her support. "I know you don't want to do it but Dean needs training. He needs to know everything he can about what's out there and what's happening to Sam. Already he's proven to be unrelenting when he has a purpose, quick to learn, and willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done within reason."

Bobby's forehead wrinkles and Karen asks, "How would you know how the kid handles hunting?"

With the question she realizes what she's said and what a mistake it was. "He might have helped us out with the Adam's house a tiny bit…."

"What!?" Bobby nearly shouts.

"I kept him on the fringes!" Lizzy tries to make it better. "I gave him the info you gave Garth and me and then let him use my laptop. He did a damn good job with the research."

"And all he did was research, right?" Bobby asks. She stays silent, once more looking downward, and he knows already that he did more. "_Right_?"

"It's my fault," Dean cuts in, moving his hands so that he sandwiches Lizzy's between his and squeezes to let her know not to say anything. "I went with them. I followed them to the Adam's House. I'm the one that didn't listen. And I learned from my mistake. I got in trouble when I made a stupid move and Lizzy and Garth had to come to my rescue. I know better now."

"But we wouldn't have figure it all out if you hadn't have taken the chance that you did," Lizzy rebuts, making excuses for Dean so that he doesn't take the full brunt of the anger. "You figured it out when Garth and I couldn't."

"But I didn't go about it right," Dean tells her. "I coulda gotten killed, remember? You yelled at me? _Twice_?"

"Maybe you shouldn't have scared me like that." She laughs a little. "And you had to learn, didn't you?"

"I think you scared me more than that ghost did," Dean laughs right back.

"Good," she grins at him.

And while they trade self-blame, Karen and Bobby share a look of sudden understanding. They can see exactly what's happening here. This isn't just about keeping Sam Winchester safe.

Pulling them from their conversation is the sound of Bobby sighing. Dean and Lizzy look at him. "I gotta be honest, I don't like this much." The two younger people nod their understanding. "But… this whole demon army thing is new to me too. We're gonna need help with it. If you're willing and you're doing this for the right reasons… then I need to see what you got."

Dean smiles wide.

"That don't mean you're in!" Bobby warns hard. "I'll give you a couple days, test you out. If I think you got it in ya then we'll go from there."

"Thank you, Mister Singer," Bobby nods, his hand grasping hard onto Lizzy's with excitement.

"And if you're staying here with us for a bit you have to follow the rules," Bobby stipulates.

"Absolutely," Dean easily agrees.

"That means you contribute. You clean up after yourself, take out the trash when my wife asks you to, and you mind your Ps and Qs."

"I can do that."

"And I don't want to hear no complaining. This life ain't easy. If you're gonna live it then don't bitch about it.

"Fair enough."

"And… you sleep on the couch," Bobby tells him. "And you sleep _alone_."

The red on Lizzy cheeks give it away. Bobby has the confirmation he needs. He was right about them.

"Don't know where else it'd be proper for me to sleep under your roof, sir," Dean sucks up.

"Mmhmm," Bobby hums with disbelief, not sure what to think just yet. He's already got it in his head that he better figure out this kid and fast. No one goes near his girl unless Bobby knows he deserves to.

Unlike Bobby, Karen takes a deep breath and looks across the table with a wide smile. "Dean, dear, why don't I show you around the place and get you settled, hm?"

"That'd be awesome, Mis… Karen," Dean corrects himself, letting go of Lizzy's hand to stand up. Before following her he places his plate and fork into the sink, cleaning up after himself. Karen just grins at him before giving the tour.

The second they are out of sight Bobby grumbles. "I don't like him."

"What!?" Lizzy asks with shock, her voice loud.

"I don't like him," Bobby repeats, standing up to head for his study.

"You don't know him," Lizzy rebuts.

"I know enough," Bobby mutters and disappears into the other room. Lizzy shakes her head, knowing the struggle she's about to endure. And she already knows _why_ Bobby doesn't like Dean and it has _nothing_ to do with hunting.

* * *

"What're you doing up still?"

The voice cuts through his flying mind as he lays on his back on the couch in the Singer's living room. He lifts his head with a smile already on his face since he knows exactly who that is.

"Waiting for you to come check on me," he says and shares a shit eating grin.

"Smooth," Lizzy laughs and walks towards him in her black cotton shorts and white tank top, her hair in a ponytail and face washed. She sits on the edge of the old couch and looks at him, a hand on his chest. "Why are you really still up?"

"Just… a lot on my mind," he tells her honestly, his brain moving a mile a minute with everything he's been through just this week alone.

"I understand," she nods with a warm smile. "Which is why I'm checking on your ass instead of sleeping myself."

"Well, thank you for the concern," he grins a little wider and places his hand on top of her where it rests on him. "I felt like I had laser focus on me every time I came near you all day."

Lizzy laughs quietly. "They're a little protective of me. Especially Bobby."

"You don't say," he caustically bites, making her smile more.

"But they're good people so, you know, deal with it."

"It was like trying to impress my girlfriend's parents all day. Super uncomfortable," Dean huffs a laugh but this time Lizzy doesn't join him. She's looking at him funny. "What?"

"Is that how you see me?" she wonders, eyes narrowed on him suspiciously.

Dean shakes his head with a furrowed brow. "I don't…."

"As a girlfriend?" Lizzy challenges, an eyebrow cocked as she just stares at him and waits for an answer.

"I, uh… I… no?" That's the best he could do. Lizzy just eyes him with the lie and Dean sighs. "Alright, so, I know you don't want that, ok? I get it. You're out there and busy and don't need some label or relationship tying you down."

"You're a smart man," she smiles once more, patting his chest.

"And maybe I shouldn't want something like that since I'm gonna be busy here if Bobby'll be cool and train me up but… Liz, I like you. A lot. And I'm not a one girl kinda dude… but now? I kinda wanna be." She makes a funny face of recognition. "Can't believe I just said that."

"Me neither," Lizzy smirks and shifts to sit closer to him, grabbing his hand in both of hers.

"Point is, I'll take what I can get from you," Dean says to her.

"So if I said I wanted to get married tomorrow?" she pushes him.

"You don't want that," he says knowingly.

"If I did though?"

"I'd drive us to Vegas tomorrow." His expression of seriousness never flinches.

Lizzy's eyes nearly bug out of her head. "You're insane."

"Probably," Dean huffs. "I just like you. I wanna be around you. You make me happy."

"That doesn't mean you should marry me!" she laughs a little. "Liking someone isn't the same as committing your life to someone, dumbass!"

"Eh, I'm sure you can learn to love me over time," he smirks right back and he notices the pink heat on her cheeks even in the dimly lit room.

Lizzy looks away and her eyes sweep the living room, unsure of how to take that.

"You ok?" Dean wonders, catching her reaction.

"No," Lizzy honestly tells him.

"I was too honest?" he eyes her, wishing he hadn't opened his damn mouth.

Exhaling hard, she peers at him with something he can't pinpoint. "I don't know how to deal with… being close to people. It scares me."

"Why?"

"Because it'll hurt too much when they die," Lizzy explains simply. "And they all die."

"I won't."

The roll of the eyes is epic sized in response.

"Oh, trust me, I'm not dying," Dean promises.

"If you're gonna hunt then… yeah, you will," she says with no emotion. "So will I. So will Garth. That's how it goes."

"Garth'll die in that dented tin can of an old camper out back before a ghost can get to him.

Lizzy laughs at that, knowing the 1950's trailer is in no shape to be slept in. "It's his happy place. What can you do?"

"And you know what? Fuck that," Dean gets upset with her outlook. "I'm doing this for Sammy. He's gonna be safe because of me and I can't protect him if I die. Trust me when I say I'm not going anywhere."

He can tell by her expression that she doesn't believe it at all.

"And I'm not leaving you," Dean says to her sitting up and squaring his shoulders towards her. "Whatever the hell this is… I'm not gonna give up on it so easily. I want to see where this goes. So it seems to me that I got two pretty damn good reasons to keep my ass alive. That's pretty good, right?"

Wrinkling her face in reaction, Lizzy drops a hand on the side of his face with calm adoration. "It's not bad."

Dean smirks and nods.

"But you're so fucking dumb it's sad," Lizzy informs him. "You sign up for this… it ends bloody for you. Maybe not today but who the fuck knows what tomorrow looks like. Dean… shit, I really like you, ok? I don't want to be the reason you end up dead. And I just don't want you dead at all."

"Oh, stop," Dean gets annoyed and pulls his hand from her grip. He holds her face tightly and makes her look right at him. "I made this decision. I did. You had nothing to do with me coming here and going for this. I promise you, whatever happens to me won't ever be your fault… unless, you know, what happens to me is I get laid by the girl that already gave me the best couple nights _ever_."

Lizzy huffs a laugh as Dean drops his grip on her face and she melts for him a little more. He's doing that a lot, finding moments in which he can chip away at her hard exterior. For his sweetness she leans in and kisses him, something quick and innocent. "Yeah… I can't help you with that."

"What?" he asks with disappointment. "They're asleep."

"I told Bobby we weren't anything he needs to worry about and I promised no funny business while under this roof."

"They wouldn't know…."

"I would." She shrugs.

"Damn… goody-goody," he complains a bit.

"You'll survive."

"Maybe," he grumbles unhappily. "Wow, so… you have some seriously traditional parents."

"They aren't my parents," Lizzy gets offended right away.

Dean pauses, surprised by the snap reaction. "Oh, Liz… I didn't mean…."

"I know you didn't. But Bobby and Karen aren't my parents."

"You sure _they_ know that?"

This makes Lizzy lighten up a touch, her mood pulled back into a better place. "No, I don't think they do. But they care about me. They've taken good care of me through the years when I didn't have anyone else. Hell, they helped raise me when I was still a minor with no family to be had."

"Sounds like some nice _adoptive_ parents to me," Dean says, making sure to use the word adoptive this time.

She pauses. "They've been very good to me." Her face is both sad and warm at the very same time.

"You're lucky to have that," Dean tells her. "Honestly, I haven't had that in a very long time. I'm glad you found Bobby and Karen."

"Me too," she nods and they both grow quiet, thinking of the family members they've lost in the past. It still hurts, it always does, and it's something they can both relate to easily. Lizzy sighs and pats his shoulder. "You should try and get some sleep."

"Why?"

She grins wide. "I'm in charge of your training tomorrow. Bobby asked me to break you in."

His expression drops completely. "What's that mean?"

"You'll see," she grins as she gets up and starts to walk out of the room. "Sweet dreams, Dean."

He watches her leave, eyes glued to her ass in her tight shorts despite her poking fun at him, and gets an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He saw her in that bar when she let the douche bag she tricked out of money have it. She's a beast when she wants to be. Dean flops back onto the uncomfortable old couch and stares at the ceiling.

"I'm so fucked."

* * *

"Oh, come on!" Lizzy complains within a taunt as she shifts from foot to foot, her fists raised defensively as she eyes him, smirking. "One hit and we can stop."

Dean huffs a tired, heavy sigh as he wipes his brow with his forearm, his t-shirt soaked through in sweat as he stares down what he currently believes is the worst person he's ever met.

After waking him in the morning by shouting 'Good morning, Viet Nam!' into his ear at six in the morning, Lizzy dragged Dean out to the back warehouse. The place is packed with used parts, scrap metal, and various assorted junk but the center of the room is wide and open. He asked about the red spray painted circle with symbols and a pentagram within it on the concrete floor but Lizzy just told him one day at a time… whatever that means.

And now, after a three mile run followed by a vigorous workout session of all strengthening exercises, Dean has just one task left before he's allowed to stop for some water and lunch that Karen promised to make him on his first day training.

He now understands the offer and the sympathetic look Karen gave him on the way out of the farmhouse this morning. She knew Lizzy would destroy him.

And what's worse is that she's standing there, a slight sheen of sweat coating her skin as she still looks phenomenal. All this hard work and she never batted an eye. She's spectacular.

And he's exhausted.

"Come on, tough guy," Lizzy laughs a little. "You land one blow and we can call it a morning."

"Shut up," Dean pants out, his heart pumping a mile a minute with true exhaustion. He thought he was in shape before this. He thought wrong.

"Excuse you?" she pauses and puts her hands on her hips. "It's not my fault that a girl is thoroughly handing you your own ass…."

"Not helping!" Dean yells at her, fists balled again and back hunched as he jumps a couple times foot to foot, trying to get his wits back along with some energy.

"Would it help if I said the ass I was handing to you was quite the fine ass?" she cocks an eyebrow and asks.

Dean narrows his eyes for a second. "Only a little."

She laughs. "Look, I know you're cooked but sometimes the bad will use that against you. Some hunts take the shit right outta you but you can't let that stop you from successfully fighting back. You can't give an inch. Now, come at me and hit me."

"I just want to go on record as saying I really don't want to hit you."

"Heard you the first fifteen times. Come on. I can take it," she says, waving her hands for him to come at her.

Dean shakes his head, waking himself up, and decides this is it. His last burst of energy he has left. Better get this done.

Walking to the right, he circles her for a moment. Dean has no fighting experience aside from a couple bar brawls back in his younger days. He knows nothing about this but his instincts are starting to kick in. He's starting to notice things, like how every so many steps Lizzy's eyes sweep her surroundings. She's giving him an opening. It's a slight one but still, it's an opening.

He waits her out, stepping around her and watching her eyes closely.

There it is!

When her eyes move to the left for a split second Dean jumps at the opportunity. He moves in and strikes, throwing a solid right punch square on.

But he forgot how damn great her reflexes are. She blocks the punch easily.

"Aw!" Lizzy shouts when a fist lightly connects with the underside of her jaw. He hadn't once followed up a single strike with another quickly after and switching it up like that has paid off. She got used to his patterns. He got her.

"Yes!" Dean shouts with pride as he backs off a few steps, arms raised overhead with fists pumping. "Fuck yes! Ha!"

"Ok, relax," Lizzy smiles at the display as she shakes off the light hit. He put enough muscle behind it for it to sting a bit but not enough to really hurt, at least not for a hunter that's felt her fair share of pain.

"Relax!? Are you kidding me!? I'm fucking awesome!" Dean asks with excitement. "We've been out here sparring for almost an hour!"

"Yeah. Because you suck," she giggles a little.

"And you don't," Dean reminds her. "Jesus fucking Christ. I didn't think it was gonna happen."

"Well, you learned from your mistakes," she starts to explain everything to him. "You figured out my tells and you saw that you were getting predictable and switched it up. That's some pretty good stuff, Dean. Especially on day one."

"Why, thank you," he says to her, bowing with flair for the compliment. He gets another laugh from her and he watches her head across the room. "Can we stop now?"

"Yes," she tells him, pulling a cooler open that he never saw in the corner. She pulls out an ice cold bottle of water and tosses it to him. "Hydrate."

"Oh, thank God!" Dean cheers, cracking the bottle and draining nearly the entire thing in one go.

Lizzy watches as she sips slowly. "You're gonna make yourself puke."

"Ah… don't care," Dean says to her, sighing with relief. "Why didn't you tell me we had water before?"

"You think every hunt goes smoothly and that when you need water it's available?" she asks with disbelief.

"Guessing the answer to that is no."

"Nope." She smiles at him, feeling the pull of pride deep down for his tenacity all morning. He's worked hard, harder than she thought he would even, and it's been impressive to watch as he's pushed more than he's ever been pushed but he never relented. She's starting to see he wasn't joking. He wants this. Lizzy starts for the door. "Let's go."

"Lunch?" Dean's little-boy voice asks hopefully.

"Damn straight," she laughs as she pushes the warehouse door open. Dean jogs along, using the last of his energy to hustle towards some much needed food… and the opportunity to sit down.

When they make it through the side door of the Singer house they walk into the kitchen and are greeted by Karen with a wide smile.

"I was wondering if I was going to see you two at all this afternoon!" she lights up. "Come sit!"

"We stink," Lizzy tells her.

"Oh, dear, living in this house, with what we do… I've smelled worse," Karen laughs and points to the chairs at the kitchen table.

Dean doesn't have to be told a second time. He's so beat he could drop dead on his feet right now. He lunges for a chair and plops down, the loud sigh of relief enough to get Karen laughing again.

"Sounds like my girl over here thoroughly worked you over this morning," she says over her shoulder as she finishes up the sandwiches she has almost made on the counter.

"Sounds about right," Dean agrees easily. He wipes a hand down his face to clear some of the left over sweat and the leans his elbows into the table top.

"I hope we're talking strictly about _training_, hm?" Karen alludes, letting them know she's already fully aware of whatever is between them.

"Karen!" Lizzy shouts her name with surprise and embarrassment.

"I'm not dumb, Lizzy," Karen calmly responds.

Dean's face is sheet-white as he looks at the older woman. "Uh, Missus Si… Karen?"

"Yes, Dean?" she asks, turning to face them with two plates in hand, a sandwich on each.

"I don't know what you think is happening here," Dean says, pointing between Lizzy and himself. "But we know the house rules. We wouldn't break them, especially since you and Bobby have been so kind to me…."

"Relax, hon," Karen smiles, placing a plate in front of each before going to the refrigerator for more water bottles. "I'm just giving you a hard time. I know Lizzy wouldn't break our rules and I like to think that you wouldn't either."

"Good," he smiles back, calming a bit.

"But I do know my Bobby can be very… intimidating. And watchful," Karen tells them. She sits at the table with them and gives over a water bottle each. "So if you at some point feel the need to take a night off while Lizzy is here, go to a bar or take a walk out on the property even… I would understand."

"Oh, I used to disappear all the time," Lizzy says with a huge mouthful of food, the bite massive. Dean takes the cue and digs in too.

"And we'd always find you out in the old rusted truck bed by the clearing with Rumsfeld," Karen tacks on.

"Rumsfeld?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, Bobby's old mutt. He died last year," Lizzy explains, not looking up from her sandwich. "He used to love it out there."

"_You_ used to love it out there," Karen rebuts.

"It's quiet. And no one bugs me to target practice or go make salt rounds," Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"Or clean your room," Karen says and swats Lizzy's shoulder.

"Damn straight."

"Language," Karen gets upset.

"Wait… you have a room here?" Dean smirks after swallowing his food.

"Kinda, yeah," she nods. "It's generally mine but other hunters have been known to stay in there."

"It's her room," Karen smiles at Lizzy like a mother would smile at their kid. Dean can see that love all over Karen and he understands he best keep himself in check here. Lizzy is their golden child. He's just the guy looking to get in her pants. No wonder Bobby's been cold to him.

Dean hums and nods, knowing he has to take a peek before leaving. He's got to see what a bedroom owned by Lizzy looks like.

"So what's new around the community?" Lizzy asks for an update as she eats.

"Ugh, how much time do you have?" Karen laughs. "Mari's been driving us up a wall lately."

"What now?" Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"Well, she went off the grid for a week and scared the daylights out of us. Wouldn't answer the phone, didn't respond to emails… she had my stomach up in knots."

"And where was she?"

"She was holed up with some two-bit trucker for a week!" Karen laughs. "I tell you, this girl will be the end of me!"

"No calls or texts? No emails?" Lizzy disbelieves. Karen shakes her head no in response. "Jesus, he better have been amazing in the sack."

"Hush!" Karen laughs at Lizzy's crude words.

As the two gossip about their friends in the life, Dean sits quietly by and listens. He's happy to listen. He's seeing what this life is like through their tidbits about other hunters and honestly, seeing Lizzy this relaxed and easy going… hell, he's just happy seeing her like this.


	45. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 8)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

**I didn't change all that much. Just a few little details in one section.**

* * *

"Balls!" Bobby yells out when he leans over to get a better look at the young man passed out at the kitchen table while using one of his priceless and one of a kind books as a pillow. "He's drooling on the Demon Dictionary."

Lizzy looks over from her spot in the study to see Dean sleeping while hunched over the book Bobby gave him to start reading up on what's happening to Sam. He's gone to the world after the day of harsh training he's had and he's looking down right adorable where he is right now.

"I'll get him," Lizzy volunteers. She gets up from her seat on the old floral couch against the wall and leaves her laptop there, abandoning her research on the suspicious happenings in rural Idaho to help Dean out.

"Well, hurry," Bobby complains. "He's ruining the page on Laraje."

"Oh, God forbid," Lizzy rolls her eyes and leans over Dean when she reaches him, placing her hands lightly on his shoulders and coming in close to his ear. She whispers his name once. "Dean."

He doesn't move.

She tries a little louder, "Dean?"

"Mm?" he hums quietly without really moving, smacking his lips once.

Lizzy laughs quietly at him. "Dean, wake up."

"Hm, Liz?" he says, finally moving a little bit.

"It's me. And you're asleep at the kitchen table. Get up," Lizzy says amused and pulls his shoulders until his back is upright.

His bleary eyes open and blink a few times, focusing on her. "Hey."

"Hi there. Let's get you to bed, huh?" Lizzy asks him and starts to pull him out of his chair before he can respond.

When he moves onto his feet he groans in pain and limps a bit.

"Hurting already?" Lizzy lights up with his predicament.

"Everywhere… oh, God," he complains, grabbing the back of one thigh. "Ugh, the hell did you do to me?"

"Don't be a baby," Lizzy annoys jestingly. "I'll help you to the couch."

The two limp off to the living room, Bobby with a very watchful eye on them both. His shoulders tense when Dean's arm comes around her lower back as he leans into her for help… his hand sliding a little too low for the father figure's liking.

"You need to relax, Bobby," Karen's voice lightly chastises as she walks towards him from the refrigerator, beer in hand. "She's not going to be a saint her whole life."

"She's ain't never been a saint, Karen," Bobby grumps right back, knowing who his girl is when she's on the road.

"And I remember you at her age too," Karen reminds, handing the beer over and patting him on the chest. "You weren't a saint either."

"And I want better for her," Bobby bitches and his face drops when he hears Lizzy giggle in the other room, the sound never heard by him before. "I mean, who is that girl in there? That ain't her laugh."

"It is when she's in love," Karen says to Bobby and waits for the explosion.

"Love!?" Bobby outrages and Karen shushes him. "She's in _love_?"

"Oh yeah."

"She tell you that?"

"Did she have to?" Karen laughs.

"Oh, I'm not ready for this…."

"You never were going to be, dear," Karen says to him with a bright grin, knowing Lizzy growing up and finding a guy was always going to be tough on Bobby. The way Lizzy looked at Bobby after she'd settled into their house and become family was so adoring and sweet… and Bobby always looked at her with nothing short of love once she creeped into their family. There being another man in her life, sharing her affection, was never going to be something Bobby would handle with grace.

"I'm gonna go set up for tomorrow," Bobby gruffly says and twists his beer open. He takes a long pull and heads out the side door to go gather the guns, ammo, and targets needed for practice tomorrow.

Karen just lets him go, knowing he'd need a moment.

"Where's he off to?" Lizzy asks, walking back into the study and retaking her seat after Dean's heavily passed out on the couch.

"Bobby's getting ready for tomorrow."

"Target practice?"

"I think so," Karen nods and Lizzy looks back at her computer, diving back into her prep work. Karen takes a wooden chair from the kitchen table and brings it with her to the study. She places it in front of Lizzy, facing her, and sits down.

Peering up from the computer screen, Lizzy sees Karen sitting there smiling at her. "What's this about?"

"Talk to me."

"About?" Lizzy wonders and the expression on Karen's face, the one that says 'you know what', makes her sigh like a huffy teenager. "What the hell…?"

"You brought him here and didn't think I'd need information?"

"I guess I just didn't think you and Bobby'd be up my ass about a guy that needs training."

Karen's face drops. "You're still standing behind that story?"

"What story?" Lizzy asks, getting defensive.

She sighs. "Dear, Dean's not just here because he needs training. He's here because you want him here."

"I told him not to do this!" Lizzy starts to rebut harshly and quite suddenly… much like a teenager would to their mother. "I told him to stay at home…!"

"And he came anyways. And I know, he's doing this for his brother, blah, blah, blah… but he's here because of you too and you can't deny that."

"No he's…."

Karen cuts her off. "Don't you dare lie to me about this, Elizabeth Noonan." Her voice is strong and challenging and completely parental. Lizzy shuts right up. "Just admit to me that you have feelings for him."

Lizzy's jaw clenches and looks away, not speaking.

"Lizzy, it's not a bad thing to like him," Karen reminds her. "And I understand it completely. He's a polite, kind young man. And _very_ easy on the eyes."

"_Karen_!" Lizzy says with shock, eyes wide to hear her speak this way.

"I _am_ a woman, dear. And he's quite the man. I can say that, it's allowed."

"I know, I just… I don't hear you speak like that too much," Lizzy tells her with bafflement.

"Well, you don't bring boys here too often," Karen says with a grin, sitting back into her chair with her arms crossed. She smiles wide. "Tell me about him."

Lizzy stares at Karen for a beat, thinking it over. Clearly there's no way out of this and it'd probably be better to talk when Bobby isn't around versus with him in the room. Sighing yet again, Lizzy places the laptop on the cushion next to her before settling into her spot. She sits Indian-style and folds her hands in her lap. "What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet him?"

"At a bar," Lizzy answers quickly. "And don't say anything!" She points accusingly at Karen in a preemptive strike. "You know I work hard and so I play hard sometimes. And I was only there to make money. I hustled a bunch of dudes out of nearly five hundred bucks that night."

"I didn't say anything," Karen reminds her.

"You were gonna!"

"Relax, Lizzy," Karen patronizes and Lizzy shuts up, knowing better. "What happened?"

"I was at the bar getting a drink between games and he came up to the bar next to me. We talked a little and I messed with him."

A smile spreads across Karen's face. "What did you do?"

"He was hitting on me," she shrugs. "I gotta make them work for this, Karen." She gestures to her body. "I'm not just giving it away."

The older woman lets out a good laugh at that. "Oh, please don't say anything like that around Bobby."

"I don't have a death wish," Lizzy huffs a laugh back.

"So… what did you do?"

"Well, he made some comment about me not having to pay for drinks ever because I'm a hot chick or some crap like that so _I_ bought _him_ a drink."

"Good girl," Karen pats Lizzy's knee, appreciating her sense of strength as a woman. "But how is that messing with him?"

Lizzy grins with pride. "I got him a Cosmo and told him he would drink it if he wanted to impress me."

"And!?" Karen excites.

"Every last drop," Lizzy laughs.

"My girl!" Karen cheers a bit. "So that's it? You talked at the bar?"

Lizzy looks away, guilt all over her face. "Not exactly…."

"Lizzy, you're an adult," Karen reminds. "You can make your own decisions."

"Well, then… I made my own decision that night," Lizzy gives away what happened.

"And you were safe?"

"Condoms and pocket knives all around, don't worry," Lizzy tells her, knowing she was armed and that they were safe. She neglects to mention how close they came to having unsafe sex but Karen certainly doesn't need to know that detail.

"Well, that was… fast of you," Karen tells her. "But I don't blame you."

"Really!?" Lizzy says with surprise, her brow lowered.

"Oh, honey. Don't forget that I was young too," Karen says. "And believe me, that Bobby of mine was quite the specimen when I met him."

"Please tell me you gave it up to Bobby the first night," Lizzy smiles wide with the idea. It would definitely make her feel better about having sex with Dean that fast now that she knows she feels something for him.

"First night, no. But second night…?" Karen just shrugs.

"Knew you were easy," Lizzy tells her.

"Bite your tongue!" she swats the younger woman's knee with that. "What happens now? With him?"

"Nothing," Lizzy shakes her head.

Karen gives her an angry look. "Try that again?"

"I don't know what to tell you," Lizzy says honestly.

"How about that you're in love?"

Lizzy stares daggers into Karen with that. "What the fuck, Karen!?"

"Language!" Karen gets mad.

"I'm not in love."

"You _are_ in love… and you're in denial too," Karen laughs at her.

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Put all that crap on me! I just like him. He's fun. That's it."

"Lizzy, darling… you're in love with him," Karen tells her and when Lizzy's mouth opens to deny it again Karen points at her strongly, getting her to shut it. "And I know how scary that is."

Lizzy sits back into the couch. "It's been less than a week. I'm not in love with him. I just like him."

"Time doesn't matter," Karen tells her. "And I know every excuse you're about to make. We hunt so we can't have relationships. I don't have time. I'm a lone warrior that roams the Earth being too badass for any man to tie me down…."

"_Nice_," Lizzy sarcastically says as Karen jokingly makes her point.

"But you know how short life is, better than most people," Karen gets serious. "That boy makes you happy, Lizzy. I've seen it."

Lizzy looks away as the bright grin plasters itself on her face. He definitely makes her happy.

"I like when you're happy, by the way," Karen says further, a glint in her eyes when Lizzy looks back to her. "If he makes you happy and you know he'll treat you right then, honey… what are you waiting for? He's a catch!"

"You're nuts," Lizzy tells her mother figure, the smiles tugging the corners of her mouth upward unstoppable.

"And you're the most frustrating girl I've ever met." Karen laughs hardily. "Stop being such a pigheaded little thing! I say you stop dipping your toes in the water and you just jump right into the deep end."

Lizzy's wide eyes stare at Karen with true shock. "What if it doesn't work out?"

"Then it doesn't work out," Karen shrugs. "People break up. It happens every day."

She sighs. "What if he… doesn't end up liking me? Once he knows me for real and all? I'm not easy." Lizzy questions shakily.

"Then he's an idiot," Karen says for sure. "Because even if he's a catch, you're the real prize here."

"You're just saying that because you're my… Karen," Lizzy points out. "And what if…?" She shakes her head. "I don't need that pain in my life. I've had enough pain."

"You have to start looking at things in a positive light at some point," Karen lets her know. "I know it's scary and I know you could get your heartbroken… but what if you don't? What if things work out? What if you end up madly in love and just plain happy for the rest of your life? Is that such a terrible gamble?"

And her face instantly shows her terror. "Maybe."

Karen melts. "Oh, Lizzy. You have to let your walls down and let people in again."

"I let you and Bobby in."

"No… I battering rammed my way in!" Karen laughs at her and gets Lizzy to chuckle, finding the truth in it. "It took so long for you to let us in and trust us. And look how well that turned out."

"I had a good feeling about you guys," Lizzy smirks.

"And how do you feel about Dean? Good feeling about him too?"

She smiles and quickly covers it, but not before Karen caught it.

"I'll pack you're dinners tomorrow night," Karen starts her plan. "You can Dean can head out to that clearing and eat dinner alone out there. I suggest you talk to him and stop confusing that poor sweet boy because that's exactly what you're doing."

"He's not that sweet," Lizzy rebuts with an eyebrow playfully arched.

"I absolutely don't want to know what that means," Karen jokes lightly and makes Lizzy grin and relax a bit. "But I will say… he's handsome."

"I know," Lizzy says slickly.

"Dare I say he's hot?"

"Honestly, who are you!?" Lizzy laughs at Karen's words.

"Bobby's been asking the same about you," she laughs. "I'll let you work for now. Don't stay up too late!"

"I won't," Lizzy promises as she watches Karen head upstairs.

Karen's right. Maybe she should just give it up. Dean's awesome. Better than awesome. He's been nothing but kind and accepting, even when she shows her crazy side. And he's clearly a solid, good person considering all he's willing to do to help his brother and others.

And he followed her to Sioux Falls. He left his home, everything he knows, after just a few days with her. And how happy she was on the inside despite her outward protests? She wanted him to come.

She wanted him to always be around.

She still does.

Shit.

* * *

"I so didn't peg you as a pothead," Dean tells Lizzy as they sit in the old rusted out truck bed on the edge of Bobby's property. Lizzy took him there, cooler in hand, after his training for the day was done. Target practice and more research. It was less physically strenuous but he's thankful. He's still hurting pretty badly from the day before.

"Yeah, well… I have my vices," Lizzy admits, exhaling a puff of smoke and passing Dean the joint she just rolled. She then pulls her iPod out of her pocket and plugs it into the speakers she brought out.

"Booze for sure," Dean comments before taking a drag, welcoming the chance to relax after he's been on the property for just a couple days. He needs to get away from Bobby's critical eye.

"Yes. And pot. And fighting…."

"Which you need to cut down on," Dean comments very seriously, his worry for her health and safety very real.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes as she pushes play, 'Song With No Words' coming on quietly.

"You like Crosby, Stills and Nash?" Dean questions, surprised by her selection. It's been some seriously hard rock she's chosen since he's been around her and this is a change.

"It… puts me in a better place," she explains, sitting back against the truck cab shoulder to shoulder with him as he hands back the joint. "My mom and dad both loved them."

"They had good taste then," Dean nods a Lizzy takes a hit.

"Dad did," she tells him, exhaling smoke. "My mom didn't at all. But they agreed on CSN. Grew up with it on in the house all the time."

"My mom loved the Beatles." Dean looks out over the expanse of the clearing and at the wide view of the dark night and thousands of stars. He thinks of his mother all the time still. "She used to sing me to sleep all the time. Hey Jude was her favorite."

"Fucking love that song," Lizzy comments. "So beautiful."

Dean smiles to himself. Beautiful. Much like his mother.

"What do you remember of her?" Lizzy asks, knowing she could be pushing boundaries with him but she gets the distinct feeling that he doesn't speak of her enough for his own wellbeing.

Dean swallows hard and pauses. He takes the joint from her hand and takes another big drag before answering. Watching the smoke dissipate into the air first, he sighs. "I don't remember much. Like, I remember saying goodnight to Sammy every night with her… and the way she'd tell me angels were watching over me at bedtime. Or how she used to bake the best pies."

"Now I get the obsession," Lizzy says, smiling at him and nudging him with her shoulder, making the moment lighter than it is for his sake.

He grins a little for her efforts. "Yeah. It's her fault. It's all kinda hazy because I was so young… but mostly I remember how I felt."

"What do you mean?"

"I just always felt… good. When mom was around everything always seemed happy and safe. And warm. Like nothing bad could happen. And she loved me. I could just feel how much she loved me and Sam. She… she was a good mom."

Dean watches as Lizzy snakes her fingers through his, gripping tightly and showing her support. "I'm sorry you had to lose that."

"Me too," Dean nods lightly. "But Sammy, he never even got to feel that. He has nothing of her… and that's sad. She loved him so much…."

He sighs and Lizzy knows she should move on from this before it ruins the night for them.

"Sorry I got too heavy there," she says bashfully.

"No, it's ok," Dean assures her. "I know I don't talk about her enough… Sam says it's unhealthy or some therapy bullshit. It just hurts, you know?" He looks to her to see if she does.

The pain in her eyes answers for her. She gets it.

"I miss my mom too," she sighs. "It's weird growing up without her. When she… passed I was only sixteen. A chick needs her mom through those years. They weren't easy years. If it weren't for Bobby and Karen I'd probably be some pissed off drifter always finding trouble… or dead."

"You still have family," Dean tells her. "Because those two? They're most definitely your family."

She smiles down at their hands locked together. "I know."

With that Dean takes his hand back and instead brings his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into his side. Lizzy lays her head on his shoulder and gets comfortable, appreciating the support.

"You still sure about all this?" Lizzy asks, eye angled up to him as she changes the subject. "The hunting I mean?"

"Oh yeah," Dean tells her for certain. "I know I'm doing the right thing."

"How?"

"Everything just feels… right," he explains. "Like I was supposed to do this all along."

"You are looking like a natural," Lizzy nods, having observed him the past couple days. He's absorbed information like a sponge, pouring over dusty old volumes with excitement. And his tenacity when physically training was impressive. And, shockingly, he's at ease with a firearm.

"Why, thank you," he grins like an idiot at her.

"Relax, you still have a long way to go," she laughs, keeping that ego in check.

"Yeah, I know. But I like that you're impressed."

"I never said I was impressed."

"Eh, it was implied."

A nice, calm quiet descends on them and Dean peers off in the distance, enjoying the company and lovely moment. But Lizzy is taking a deep breath to prepare herself. Karen's advice is still in her head, loud and clear, and Lizzy needs to get this over with.

"Are you here because I'm here?" the question punches out of her fast and furious before she could lose her nerve.

Dean's head whips to her direction. "What?"

"I know you're here for Sam and to do something big and good with your life but… are you here because of me too? Karen thinks you are," Lizzy says to him. "And be honest."

Looking at her sincere face, Dean can't lie. "Yes."

She smiles quickly. "Oh. Ok."

"Seriously?" Dean asks with shock. "You're not gonna yell at me now, say this is a fucking terrible reason to hunt and throw my life away?"

"Nah, I already did that," Lizzy says, pulling on the joint before passing it. "Plus… I'm really happy you're here, Dean."

Dean just peers at her, eyes wide.

"Stop looking at me like that," she says pushing him and sitting up away from him.

"Sorry, I just wasn't ready for that," Dean says, smoking a little more. "You've been playing it pretty distant."

"I'm scared," she shrugs. "I'm scared for your life and I'm always scared to get close to people."

"I can appreciate that after everything you've been through," Dean says to her with truth, shifting to face her where he sits. He leans into the side of the truck bed with knees bent up and arms resting on them. He looks right at her as she turns to also face him, sitting Indian-style. "But I'm willing to put the work in with you. I want you to see that you shouldn't be so scared."

"And why shouldn't I be?" Lizzy asks, grabbing one of his hands and holding it tightly once more.

"Because… you miss out on the point of being alive if you stay scared and push people away."

Lizzy nods, knowing he's exactly right. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you away. You scare the shit out of me."

"Little old me?" Dean jokes and laughs a little. "Look, I know I scare you. And I should. You're smart. You know all the bad that could happen here. But what about the good? You've had enough bad. You've earned yourself some goodness. You should let me be that."

Lizzy smiles hesitantly. "You're really good with words, you know that?"

"Eh, I had to raise a teenager already. I better have my thoughts and arguments clear and concise if I'm gonna battle a future lawyer and not lose."

"I forget how much shit you've also seen," Lizzy admit. "I get so wrapped up in my own I start to think no one else has seen what I have and that's just not true."

"I can understand you, Liz. I can," Dean promises. "And you don't have to always be so alone."

She bows her head, nodding as she bites back tears. It's not the time for that. "It's weird not feeling completely alone."

"It's good too though, right?"

She nods rapidly, agreeing completely. "It's really good," she says, looking him square in the eyes. "Thank you."

"Wow, I'm getting thanked for that!?" Dean jokes once more but Lizzy doesn't laugh.

"I just… I…." She sighs with her stubborn inability to be honest. Emotions suck. "Dean I… I'm pretty sure…. Shit." She smiles and huffs with disappointment in herself.

"I feel like you're trying to be serious here," Dean jests lightly, unsure about what to say in this situation. Lizzy's always confident and self-assured. This stuttering is new.

"I am so shut the fuck up," she says with annoyance and Dean laughs at her immediately. "Now you're laughing at me. Nice. Never mind then."

"No! Say whatever you were gonna say," Dean says now that he feels bad.

"No, you ruined it," Lizzy says stubbornly, pulling her hand back and backing away. She sits against the opposite side of the truck bed with her knees bent up and looking away from him.

"Come on, Liz." Dean bids of her, crawling over to her. He kneels between her legs, hands on her knees, and tries. "I'm sorry, ok? I was trying to lighten it up for you. You seemed to be struggling there."

"I was, thanks," she gets further pissed.

"I'm not making fun of you."

"Sure you're not…."

"Hey," Dean says calmly and sits back on his heels, cupping her cheek in one hand and making her look at him. "Try again. What were you gonna say? I'm listening, no bullshit."

The way he stares at her, his expression softened and affectionate, clearing caring about what she had to say. He would never joke at her expense when it counted.

"I just… I feel a lot for you," she says quietly, eyes roaming a bit. "And Karen told me she saw it. And I should tell you."

"Karen's a smart woman," Dean says with a light grin.

Lizzy closes her eyes, pushing out a sigh. "And she told me I should… I…." She starts to stutter again she hates it. Like a band aid. "You know what, fuck it." She looks right at him. "I love you. Ok? I do. I love the shit outta you and I've known you for like five minutes. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me and I don't know how this happened but I lo…."

She's cut off by lips crashing into hers harshly, Dean leaning into her in a flash through her frustrated ramblings. He kisses her hard, lips moving with purpose and need, as she responds instantly, loving the fact that he's letting her physically show this expression instead of continue to mumble through rambling thoughts.

When Dean pulls away from a beautiful, deeply moving embrace such as that one, Lizzy can feel her heart pounding away in her chest. She lifts her lids to see bright green staring right back at her, the gorgeous eyes she knows she'll never get sick of.

"Liz, I love you, too," Dean says with a slight grin on his lips, meaning it fully.

"We're fucking nuts, right?" Lizzy asks quickly, needing confirmation that they're possibly insane.

"Definitely," Dean equally as quickly answers before diving for her, kissing her again immediately, the moment motivating him to move. He yanks her into his lap and pulls his arms around her back and she straddles his legs.

She circles his neck and keeps kissing him, unable to do anything but attack this man. Speaking her mind like that was horribly scary. It took her all to say that and Dean made the moment perfect. He made her feel comfortable within the admission when she should have been even more jittery and frightened.

She isn't alone in this. They're on the same plane.

How it happened neither gets it but they do love each other. And they're both aware that they're totally insane.

"Mm," Lizzy hums into his mouth as her hands comb through his short hair. Her heart is exploding in her chest over how this went. She pictured so many ways it could go wrong but she never pictured the ways it could go right. She just wants him so much now. "Fuck, been wanting you so bad since we got here."

Dean's eyes widen for a split second before he moves sharply, putting her on her back as he hovers over her, kneeling once more between her legs on the hard metal surface of the truck. "Not touching you for two days… all while you've been strutting around in tight black yoga pants…." He leans down and kisses her, the embrace burning hot. "That ass right in my face? It's been torture."

A smile spreads across Lizzy's face at that before she repeats a phrase she said to him their first night together. "Let's get naked."

Dean growls with the statement. "I fucking love you."

She laughs lightly, Dean shutting her up with his mouth. He kisses her bruisingly, all the while reaching for the collar of his own t-shirt. He pulls it over head while sitting back on his heels, Lizzy taking the opportunity to do the same. She whips her shirt overhead before pulling a now shirtless Dean down on top of her, kissing him again. She can't get enough of that mouth, the full and perfect lips on hers like heaven to her.

"Uh, naked. Now," Lizzy gets impatient, opening his jeans.

Dean backs away and starts to work on his boots, unlacing them swiftly. Lizzy yanks her own off and tosses them over the side of the truck. They work frantically, both removing item after item as fast as possible until they have nothing left. She settles onto his hips and leans down to kiss him again.

When they end the kiss Dean keeps her close with fingers woven into her dark hair, only inches away from his face. "Marry me."

Lizzy laughs hardily at the moment. He's said this so many times by now, every time it being a joke.

"I mean it," Dean stops her laughter. She looks at him with confusion. "Marry me."

"You're being crazy," Lizzy shakes it off and starts to move before he grabs her hips hard and keeps her in place, forcing her to listen.

"No I'm not," Dean swears to her. "I'm serious. I love you. I'm never not gonna love you. Life is short. Let's do it."

Lizzy groans in complaint. "Dean, Jesus. I just said I loved you after only five days. Isn't that enough?"

He smirks. "I'm gonna get you to say yes."

"Shut up and let me fuck you!" she gets angry at him.

Dean huffs a laugh again before letting her hips go in favor of her face, pulling her down once more and kissing her.

While enjoying the night, physically being able to be together without Bobby's watchful eyes, he lets it go for now but it's just for now. Dean's crazy, he's sure of it… but he's crazy about her. And he's not scared of it either.

He'll get her to say yes.

* * *

"So Michigan, huh?" Dean says, dropping Lizzy's duffle bag into the trunk of her small SUV.

"Yes, sir," she answers quite sullenly, Dean shutting the trunk and looking at her with a smirk.

"Sir?" he eyes her and walks for her, hands on her hips. "I like how that sounds coming from you."

"Fresh," Lizzy name-calls and presses up on her toes, kissing him quickly. The night before was very good for them. Admitting their feelings and getting what they are out in the open has made life easier… and goodbye harder.

Lizzy backs up a step when she sees Bobby come out of the side door of the house with Garth, knowing how he feels about the new relationship. He's nervous. And quite worried. No need to make it worse and flaunt it in front of the surrogate dad.

"So… I'll be heading to Jasper first, dealing with what could be a vamp nest up there, then to West Virginia for an old haunt. After that, if nothing else comes up, I'll be back here."

"That sounds pretty good," Dean smiles warmly at the idea of getting her back that soon.

"It does, doesn't it?" she flirts right back, grinning stupidly.

"Enough," Bobby grumbles and tosses a weapons pack into the backseat through an open window. "Get going, would ya?"

"Grump," Lizzy bitches but walks for Bobby anyways, hugging him tightly. "I'll see you soon."

"You be careful out there," Bobby warns. "Back in one piece and all that."

"Please," Lizzy backs away with a smirk. "Who you talkin' to?"

Bobby's face doesn't lighten. "Arrogant ass."

"Love ya too, Bobby," Lizzy laughs and pulls her keys out of her pocket.

"You say adios to Karen? She'll kill ya if you didn't."

"Of course I did," Lizzy assures.

"Then you kids be safe," Bobby tells then with practice. "Call when you get in and when you undoubtedly need help."

"Later, big man!" Garth says to Bobby as he heads back into the house. Garth then nods at Dean. "See ya, Dean."

"Bye, Garth," Dean salutes and watches as the hunter gets into the passenger seat. He then looks back to Lizzy. "And I guess I'll see you soon."

"Hopefully very soon," Lizzy says with a grin and pulls him down by the back of the neck, kissing him good.

They both jump when the horn honks.

"Fuck you, Garth!" Lizzy gets mad when he interrupts their moment. They can hear him laughing in the car. "Jackass," she grumbles.

"Get going," Dean laughs, patting her butt to get her going towards the car.

She takes a forced step from the light slap before looking back at him. "Watch it, bud. Just because we're on good terms doesn't mean you should push it."

"Drive safe," he just smiles at her.

"I will," Lizzy promises and takes a breath. "I love you." It wasn't as easy as it should be to say but it's a lot easier than she thought it would be. It's a work in progress.

Dean's grin goes full wattage. "Love you too. Now git."

He stands there and watches silently as she gets into the car, starts it up, and drives down the driveway. As the car disappears he's still smiling wide. She said it first. She actually loves him. It hit him days ago, that what he's feeling isn't within the normal range. It's deeper than that, so deep and so sure that he already knows he'll do anything for her and to be with her.

And that's exactly what he's going to do.

"Hey!"

Dean whips his head to the side doorway, towards the sound of the shouting voice. He sees Bobby's head peeking out the door.

"Get back in here. We got work to get to."

"Why… yes, sir," Dean gets more serious and jogs for the house, ready to once more take a day to prove himself.

* * *

"The apartment's alright then?" Dean asks, leaning against the side of the warehouse in the back of the Singer property, his shirt drenched in sweat and his heart still racing a bit.

"It's fine, Dean," Sam assures. "You can relax. I like it here."

"And nothing's come around, right?" he makes sure. "No demons or anything?"

"Not that I would know of."

"And you're taking all precautions every day…."

"Yes, mom. I'm doing everything Garth told me to," Sam answers patronizingly and Dean can actually hear the eyes rolling. "Salt lines on all doors and windows, there's a devil's trap in front of the front and back doors and they're covered by rugs. I have a few jars of holy water stashed and salt canisters everywhere. I'm safe as can be."

"That's all I ask. Good. So, how's my beauty?" Dean smiles involuntarily.

"The Impala's fine. There's this strange, like, squeal coming from the engine though…."

"What!?" Dean panics.

"I'm just kidding," Sam laughs. "She's running smooth as ever. Calm down."

"Bitch," Dean complains with Sam's fucking with him. "Sounds like things are good."

"They really are." Sam sounds like he's grinning with that.

"And you're not lying about anything? You _swear_ everything's going fine?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's weird living alone for the first time ever and all, but it's kinda nice too."

"I can imagine. You have Jess over yet?"

"Dean…." Sam clearly knows what his brother is about to ask.

"Aw, come on! What's the point of having your own place if you can't have your girlfriend over?"

"I've been studying," Sam answers, his voice clearly annoyed.

"Has she at least seen the place at all yet?"

"She stopped by earlier today. Said it needed a woman's touch but it's cute."

"And then?"

"And then nothing. She left."

"You're so boring," Dean laughs at his expense. "Just make sure once the semester is over she comes to your place for more than a tour. Don't piss her off by not inviting her over. Chicks want to see your place."

"Fine." Said like a true younger brother that's completely annoyed.

"Hey, uh… has dad stopped by?"

"Surprisingly, no," Sam tells him. "He called the day I moved out. He wanted to know where all his shit was. I reminded him that everything I took was _your_ shit and not his technically since you bought it all and he just called me ungrateful. I think he was loaded."

"Yeah," Dean sighs, seriously worried about his father. "What did you tell him about why you moved?"

"I said I moved closer to campus so I could focus on school. He then wanted to know where I got the money for that. I told him I got a job."

"Good thinking," Dean nods, liking that explanation. If his father knew Dean had socked away money he'd be so mad. "What did you say about me not being there?"

"He didn't ask."

"What!?" Dean question with shock. "Thought he'd be in a rage by now."

"Dean… I don't think he's noticed you're gone yet," Sam says slowly and by the cautious tone Dean knows Sam feels bad about telling him this theory. "You live downstairs. Your stuff is still all there. He works nights, you work days… I just think he assumes you're at the garage or out grabbing a beer."

Dean realizes then just how broken their family is. He left days ago and his own father didn't notice it. That's sad.

"So, how are you doing out there?" Sam questions and moves the conversation on.

"Ugh, Sammy… I'm dying," Dean admits, looking around to make sure Bobby hasn't seen him yet. "Everything hurts and I'm busy constantly."

"Doing what?"

"Training. Either running or work outs or fight training. Then target practice and weaponry. Then at night I study up for hours about all the fucked up stuff out there. Did you know there's an actual Tooth Fairy… or there _was_. That Garth guy? He fucking ganked it!"

"What!?"

"Right!?" Dean laughs. "It was yanking people's teeth in the middle of the night."

"That's fucked up."

"I know. This whole thing is pretty trippy, man."

"And you're still sure about this move?" Sam has to know and asks cautiously. "You know you can always come home. I have room at my apartment…."

"Nah, I'm doing the right thing, Sammy," Dean smiles. "As much as I'm bitching, it's been good. I'm happy. I'm gonna make a difference. And I'm gonna keep those demon bitches off your ass, I promise you that. It's worth it."

"Just… be careful, ok?" Sam airs his worries. "You make me worry about you out there. It's pretty scary, what you're heading into."

"I know but don't worry about me," Dean tries his best to assuage all of Sam's fears. "I'll be fine. You just worry about finishing up this semester. And hey, maybe you can head this way after. You can meet Bobby. He's quite the personality and he knows all about you. He wants to meet you."

"So he can kill me like Lizzy was gonna?" Sam grumbles.

"No! So he can learn more about you and help defend you. He's on our side, I promise."

"I doubt it."

"You'll see it, Sam. He's here to help. He wouldn't be training me if he wasn't."

"Yeah, I guess… hey, uh, how's it going with Lizzy?" Sam moves on, needing time to think about becoming friendly with a man that had a hit order out on him previously.

Dean bursts out in a grin. "Oh man, Sammy. I, uh… I think this is it for me."

"What the hell does that mean?" Sam asks with confusion.

"I'm saying I think she's the one," Dean makes it clear.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sam immediately asks, sure he had to have misheard his brother.

"The one, you know… the girl for me or whatever. The Monroe to my DiMaggio."

"You're fucking joking," Sam's tone drops drastically.

"Stick a fork in me, bro. I'm done looking. This chick is unreal," Dean gloats the second his mind turns to Lizzy. "I mean, you should have seen it. She started my training the first day and by the time I was a sweaty, stinking mess on the floor she's was still going. Just warming up. And you should see this girl in a pair of yoga pants. I mean, her ass is…."

"Ok! That's… fine," Sam stops him.

"And she's so smart, Sammy. She knows everything about this hunting shit _and_ she can name who wrote every single Zep song. And she's funny. I mean, real funny, not just funny for a chick. And before she and Garth left we got to hang out all night without pissing off Bobby and I gotta say… she's fascinating. And sharp. And seriously, she makes me happy."

"Wait, she's not there?"

"No."

"She ditched you?" Sam asks, confused.

"No… she didn't _ditch_ me. She had to go get to a couple hunts. She has a job, I have to train." Dean shrugs despite Sam not being able to see it. "She'll be back in a couple weeks."

"That's awkward. Just you and some old guy camped out in a house in South Dakota?"

"And his wife Karen. That loves me." He smirks to no one, loving the fact that the woman adores him. He's so in.

"Oh, I see now. You just _think_ these women love you because you're an inflated jackass," Sam starts to piece it together. "You're ego, dude…."

"Shut up! Karen has made me pie every fucking day I've been here because she knows I love it. Bobby complained about her never doing that for him. Ever."

"So therefore you're in, huh?"

"So in," Dean says with total confidence. "And Liz? She's all about me. Hell, she told me she loved me the last night before she headed out… right before we got naked out under the stars. Fucking awesome."

"What!?" Sam questions, voice once more lowering. "No one talks like that, Nicholas Sparks."

"Hey, this guy speaks in the language of love nowadays. We're in love, Sammy."

"Language of love," Sam awes to himself before pointing out, "It was a few friggin' days. Come on."

"I swear it. I love that girl. And she actually loves me too, for whatever reason. It's all… pretty awesome." Dean huffs a laugh, still in slight disbelief of all this.

"Being physically attracted to someone isn't the same as love, Dean," Sam scoffs at his brother.

"It doesn't hurt," Dean easily rebuts.

"Alright, fine. It's part of it. But that's not all of it."

"I really like her, Sammy," Dean gets honest. "She makes me happy. Like the real kinda happy. I feel good around her. I _know_ this is the real deal."

"This coming from the guy notorious for having a new woman in his bed every damn week."

"Oh no. Those days are over."

"Yeah, I'm _sure_ they are," Sam says caustically.

"They are! You'll see. The revolving door to my bedroom will revolve no more, my friend," Dean tells him with sheer confidence.

"Well, at least that's a positive of all this." He can hear Sam sigh heavily on the other end. "Just… don't be stupid, ok? Don't get your heart broken by some girl you've known only a week, please?"

"It'll never happen that way." Again with the confidence.

"Whatever," Sam ends it there. "If she dumps you I'm not listening to you cry about it."

Dean belts out a laugh. "Fair enough, man. Did you have to get to class or something?"

"Walking over now. About to reach the front door."

"Alright, I'll let you go," Dean says, looking at his watch. "Bobby's gonna be waiting for me anyways."

"You sneaking calls?" Sam asks loudly.

"Shut up. Call me in a few days, huh?"

"Will do."

They both end their calls and get on with their days, Dean feeling much lighter after speaking to Sam. They've never gone much more than a day without speaking so the distance is odd and uncomfortable for Dean. He worries about his brother. But now he's renewed and ready for whatever Bobby feels like throwing at him today.

"Let's do this," he smiles to himself and jogs around the corning, hoping to look like he just now returned from his run instead of talked on the phone.

* * *

**I love writing Sam and Dean conversations when they aren't hating each other. Makes me happy.**


	46. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 9)

**One Month Later**

"Lookin' at your watch ain't gonna make her get here any sooner," Bobby snarks as he walks around the house to the driveway, arms bundled with firewood. The days are getting colder, Dean unable to handle it well after coming from four years of California living, and Bobby's been keeping the fire in the study going as Karen is also cold… always.

"Shut up," Dean says, his tone joking and playful as he smirks at Bobby. "You got that?"

Bobby gets annoyed. "I'm older than you but I ain't elderly."

"Just offering to help an older gentleman out," Dean keeps pushing it.

"You think you're so damn funny."

"I'm freakin' hilarious," Dean grins wide, his relationship with the hunter much better after a full month of living with Bobby and being trained by him. Things have gone surprisingly well.

"Keep tellin' yourself that, smart ass," Bobby huffs, his smile hidden by his beard, as he walks for the side door. "Don't stay out too long waiting for her, California boy. You might catch cold."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean brushes off. "I'll survive."

Bobby shakes his head and gets into the house, leaving Dean to wait alone. Lizzy text him that morning to tell him she planned to arrive around two that afternoon. It's now getting close to four-thirty and he's losing his patience.

One month. She thought it'd be a couple weeks but it was a whole month of living on the phone and waiting. He's missed her. And the idea of getting to see her finally is killing him. He's been outside since his morning training. Then he was busy fixing up an old Mustang he found in pretty decent shape out back. Bobby told him if he could get it in fine, reliable order then when Sam visited in a few days he could leave the Impala and hand over the Mustang to Sam. The deal was too good so Dean's been at it for a while.

But now he's just pacing the driveway.

And then the sound comes through the air. Crunching gravel combined with 'Crazy Love' by the Allman Brothers playing loudly. That's her.

Watching as the silver Toyota makes its way towards him, the smile on his face hurts it's so big.

The car stops and the engine cuts out along with the music. Dean hustles to the driver's side door and opens it for her, not willing to wait another second to see her in person.

"Aw, are you waiting for me?" she instantly patronizes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and hops down from her seat, grin big, mirroring his.

"Course I am," Dean happily answers, grabbing her face and pulling her in. He kisses her and holds it for a long moment, remembering her and how freaking good she felt those weeks ago. Damn he missed her.

"Mm, hell of a greeting," Lizzy jokes, her hands to the sides of his waist as he presses up on her toes for another. Dean happily gives her another, pressing his lips to hers and for the first time since she left Dean feels right again, whole.

"Missed you," Dean explains, a quicker kiss this time as his arms come around her shoulders. "And your ass prancing around here in tight black pants."

Lizzy laughs, "I'm sure you did. Ah." She hisses with pain when Dean leans the weight of his arms on her shoulders. "Watch that left side."

"What happened?" he asks, backing up a bit and looking her over with sheer concern.

"Separated my shoulder last week." She pulls the arm into herself. "Garth popped it back for me but it was hours later when we had a second. Still hurts."

"Damn," Dean comments. "Shouldn't you see someone about that?"

Her face lightens and as she huffs a laugh. "Ah, yeah. Sure. And I'll have them check out that splinter in my finger while I'm there." Lizzy scoffs at the suggestion as she heads to the trunk to get her things.

"Liz, if you're hurt it's ok to get help," Dean reminds her, following.

"And give up my bunk insurance for an out of place shoulder? Nah. Gotta save that for the big stuff like broken bones and bleeding out," she denies his suggestion. She pulls open the trunk and Dean takes over when she winces. "Thanks. And trust me, I've had worse injuries."

Dean hauls her bag over his shoulder and closes the trunk. He looks at her with surprise. "You're a tough lady, I'll give you that."

"You better," she laughs and stays outside a little longer.

"Where's Garth?"

"Dropped him off at his special lady's house."

"His what?" Dean laughs. "He has a girl?"

"Yeah. Shonda. I really like her." She grabs his hand with her good side. "How's it going here? Bobby hasn't killed you yet so that's good."

Dean huffs a laugh. "No, I, uh… I think he actually likes me."

"What!? Yeah, right." Lizzy smiles at him with hope for the news he shares.

"I swear!" he holds up his free hand in vow. "He's been nicer… or as nice as Bobby gets. I listen well, I've proved myself a bunch of times… and I only pissed him off once since you left."

"That's good!" Lizzy grins with excitement. "How'd you piss him off?"

"Uh, well… I may have asked him why he was in the life." Dean winces at the truth.

"You didn't," Lizzy sadly says.

"It was stupid. I wasn't thinking and one night at dinner I asked. Karen clammed up and Bobby… let's just say dinner was over at that point."

Lizzy sighs heavily. "You shouldn't have asked them that. Never ask a hunter that question. If they want to tell you they'll volunteer it."

"Yeah, I see that now," Dean nods.

There's a pause of silence and Lizzy narrows her eyes at him. "You're not gonna ask?"

"I've learned not to, remember?" Dean counters with a smirk.

Lizzy shakes her head. "Look, what Bobby and Karen have seen is pretty fucked up. And… I don't think I'd bounce back from that."

"I won't ask again," he promises.

Lizzy nods. "I'm only telling you this because you need to make sure you never slip like that again."

"I won't say a word," he vows.

"Back about twenty years ago Karen got possessed."

"Shit," Dean says with wide eyes on her.

"No one knows why her or what the demon wanted either. It just picked her and took over. She then went after Bobby. He didn't know about evil and demons and supernatural shit. He tried to fight her off but she was too strong. He was able to get a knife and so he… he had to attack back. He stabbed her a few times before Rufus showed up."

"Who's Rufus?" Dean questions.

"He didn't stop by yet?"

"Nah."

"Good, I didn't miss him," Lizzy smiles a little bit quickly before dropping it to continue. "Rufus is to Bobby as Bobby is to me. He showed up to help. Rufus was able to exorcise the demon and get Karen to the hospital in time to save her life."

"That's great," Dean comments, not getting why this story is so terrible.

"But Karen… they didn't know before the possession… she was pregnant. She… she lost their baby," Lizzy says, the sadness clear in her throat. "Karen always wanted to be a mom. That's all she's ever wanted. And it took them forever to get pregnant at all and then…." Lizzy swallows hard while looking to the gravel below. "And the attack left her unable to ever have kids."

"Jesus," Dean shocks out, taking a step back and looking around, a hand washing down his face.

"I know," Lizzy nods. "Karen told me after I'd been here for three months. One night I was drinking and got emotional or whatever. I told Karen something about her being like a mother to me when I needed one so bad. She started crying. I apologized a million times and she eventually told me never to call her mom and why. We've never spoke about it since and Bobby's never said a thing about it ever."

"How can he?" Dean asks, feeling just devastated for the couple of people he's grown to truly admire and like.

"I wouldn't be able to, I know that," Lizzy tells him. "So anything about moms and kids and… past tragedies? Keep it to yourself, ok? Please?"

"Mums the word," Dean promises her.

"Alright, good… and now I'm all kinds of depressed and have to go say hi to them," Lizzy huffs, clearing her throat to get ready.

"Sorry about that," Dean apologizes.

"It's fine. Honestly, if you're gonna live here… it's probably better that you know about that. You can understand better why they do this."

"And why they get so attached to kids coming through here."

"You calling me a kid?"

"Myself too," Dean smirks a little. "Actually, I think I'm starting to take your place."

"No one could ever do that," Lizzy quickly snaps, sure Dean's getting cocky and provoking her.

"I don't know," Dean shakes his head. "They love me these days."

"Sure they do," Lizzy rolls her eyes and heads for the house. "Grab my things, bellboy."

"Bellboy!?" Dean disbelieves.

Lizzy turns her head as she walks, winking once before heading into the house. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Lizzy!" Karen shouts happily and makes her way quickly into the kitchen. "Sweetie, how are you!?"

"I'm good," she grins wide and holds only her good arm out for a hug. Karen stops short and eyes her.

"What happened to your arm?"

"Popped it out. It's fine, just sore."

Karen just give her that look.

"I swear I'm fine, ok?" Lizzy promises and walks the two steps to her, hugging her with her right arm only. "Relax. I get hurt. That's how it goes."

"And I'll never get used to it."

"Hey, Liz," Bobby greets and Lizzy hugs him in greeting too. "Busted shoulder, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Lizzy answers quickly.

"Eh, you'll live," he jokes and pats her bad shoulder.

"Ah, jerk!" she name calls with the little bit of pain and Bobby laughs. He walks past her to Dean as the younger man closes the door and drops her bag off to the side.

"Dean, did you get that new carburetor working with the Mustang yet?" he asks the younger man with excitement.

"Ah, almost," Dean nods. "Gotta get back out there tomorrow maybe, tinker around a little more."

"Let me know when you're heading out. I'll lend a hand," Bobby promises, grabbing Dean's shoulder for a quick second.

"Sounds awesome," Dean nods back, more than happy to have the help. Bobby knows so much about cars that another set of eyes is always helpful. Plus, he gets the feeling that working on cars with him makes Bobby incredibly happy. Dean owes him and if this is an easy way to pay him back then why not?

Then Dean glances at Lizzy and the shock on her face for the interaction makes him laugh before mouthing to her '_told you so_'.

She glares back.

"Well, honey, get settled in. I have dinner planned for six," Karen tells her. "And Dean's already done for the night so you guys can hang out."

"Getting a little soft on him, don't you think?" Lizzy jokes with the offer of a night off.

"He's earned it," Karen lets her know. "Dean's been a hard worker around here."

"And I think you'll be impressed when you take him to the warehouse tomorrow morning for training," Bobby adds in.

"Damn it, Bobby," Lizzy instantly complains. "I just got here."

"So what?"

"I'm hurt!"

"And I repeat… so what?"

"So I wanted one day off where I could sleep in… maybe _not_ beat the shit out of something or someone."

"Language!" Karen scolds.

"Don't you mean get the shit beat out of _you_ by the newbie?" Dean counters.

"_Language_!" Karen repeats and smacks Dean's arm. He just laughs.

"Oh, what… one month and you can kick my ass, huh?" Lizzy snidely remarks.

"Oh, sweetheart… you're so not ready for this," Dean smirks with excitement, ready to show off all he's learned.

"Please," Lizzy rolls her eyes and heads for her bag. She picks it up and heads for her room. "You're going down again… like last time… like _every_ time."

She listens to him laugh but doesn't miss Bobby quietly saying to Dean behind her back, "Won't she be surprised."

What the fuck is going on around here!?

* * *

Dean inhales hard once when he feels a weight on top of him. Blinking twice, Dean tries to bring his hands to his eyes and wipe the sleep from them in order to see what's happening but he can't lift his arms.

He's wide awake now.

"You trying to steal my family away from me?" a quiet and slightly tough sounding voice asks as Dean's eyes are able to focus on what it is on top of him as he's sprawled out on the couch.

Lizzy.

With his wrists gripped hard in her hands and pressed to the couch cushions at either side of his head, he's confused. But certainly not upset.

"Well, hello to you too," Dean jokes to Lizzy as he focuses on her dark eyes. They're trained on him seriously, the slightest of smiles at just the corners of her mouth. She's hovering over him closely, just a few inches between their faces.

"I leave for a month and you have Bobby and Karen wrapped around your little finger," Lizzy keeps talking. "What did you do to them?"

"Brainwashed them," Dean answer quickly.

"You know, they might actually like you better now," Lizzy points out, having been shocked by the routine she witnessed when she returned home. Dean and Bobby doing car work together and bonding over research and Karen smiling as Dean washes dishes for her and helps fix things around the house. He even fixed the fan in the bathroom that hasn't worked since Lizzy herself first moved in.

"Oh, they definitely do," Dean says and gives her a true shit-eating grin. "You really shouldn't have left me here alone with them."

"But I trusted you." She cocks an eyebrow.

"And what were you thinking?" Dean says with sarcasm.

"Bad boy. I should punish you," Lizzy says playfully, eyes alit with want.

"Mm, yes. You totally should," he jokes swiftly. "Please, feel free to do that now."

Lizzy's mouth turns up in a smile before she leans all the way down and kisses him. Damn it feels good to have that back. Every second the older eyes were off of them Dean was stealing a kiss. Or grabbing her ass. Or just plain giving her a look that lets her know how badly he needs to get her alone. The time apart was long and boring. This is much, _much_ better.

Making out on the couch like this, Dean couldn't be happier… or more concerned.

"Hey," Dean stops her and Lizzy leans up a little to look at him questioningly. "What are you doing?"

Her face wrinkles with confusion. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"We can't do that," Dean says quickly and with absolute certainty.

Lizzy laughs quietly and ducks down again, kissing Dean with his joking. When he doesn't respond, his lips unmoving, she picks her head back up and looks to him with shock. "You're serious."

"House rules, Liz," Dean reminds. "You're the one that told me this one. No sex in the house."

"But… that was before."

"Before what?"

"Before… you know. We said I love you and all that shit," Lizzy answers.

Dean smiles wide at the way she says it as he lays under her, her hands still pinning his arms down. "Bobby's rule didn't suddenly change just because we said _all that_ _shit_." He smirks while reusing her terms for their feelings she's still new to.

"But my willingness to follow it did," Lizzy says, eyes flashing her playful want. "It's just a dumb rule."

"Shit," Dean complains and looks away. He huffs a sound of disbelief in himself.

"What?" she asks, not getting the issue.

"I, uh… crap. Now I think _I_ don't want to break the rules around here."

"Are you serious?"

"Surprisingly, yeah. I am." Dean can't believe his own mouth. He's turning down sex with Lizzy. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"What the hell happened while I was gone around here?" Lizzy asks, really needing to know now.

"I just… I like it here," Dean explains himself. "Karen's been so nice and she's been looking out for me. She cares a lot about the people that come here. And Bobby's a hard ass and all but… I don't know, he's a really good guy. And we've been working on that Mustang out back together and I've gotten to know him. He's alright. I don't want to go against them after all that."

"So you really are stealing my family," Lizzy points out, her voice dropping to something serious with the realization. She lets go of him and sits back on his hips, her back upright.

"No, God no!" Dean laughs at the idea. "I could never steal them from you. Hell, the whole time you were gone it's been like one big sales pitch. They're practically gloating over you every second."

"The hell are you talking about?" Lizzy wonders, brow wrinkled.

"You know, Lizzy wouldn't have missed that last target," Dean starts in with quoting the Singers. "When Lizzy's here she makes sure to clean up her belongings now and then, not be a teenager. When Lizzy spars, she makes sure to keep her hands up, blocking all…"

"Yeah, I get it," she stops him, her mouth turned up a little.

"There is absolutely no stealing those two from you, Liz," Dean lets her know, his hands handing lightly on her hips. "Trust me, no one can replace you in this house."

"Good," she answers, not at all ready for the Singers to move on from her.

"If anything… honestly, I think they like me enough to maybe… want us together."

"Yeah, right," Lizzy laughs at the idea. When she was gone she knew Dean would impress them enough but she never thought he could turn them completely around and make them _want_ the two of them together. Dean's expression doesn't change. "You're joking!?"

"Karen slipped me a credit card with the name Johnathan Cash on it and told me it was about time we went on a real date," Dean smirks.

Lizzy's eyes bug out of her head. "What did you say to her?"

"I agreed with her. Say, what are you doing tomorrow night?" Dean grins like an idiot up at her.

Lizzy just smiles back. "They like you?"

"A lot."

"And you think even Bobby's ok with it?"

"I… might be sure of it," Dean cautiously answers.

"What the hell does that mean," Lizzy asks, her irritation growing and Dean can sense it.

Sitting up, Dean looks at her lovingly. He combs a hand through her very long hair. "I talked to him. I told him what was going on."

"Oh no," Lizzy groans and covers her hands with her face.

"No, it's fine," Dean laughs quietly at her reaction, embarrassment ruling her. He pulls her hands away from her face and makes her look at him. "I promise it's ok."

"That wasn't your place to tell him that," she strongly informs.

"Uh… why not?" he asks, baffled.

"Because he's my… Bobby," she tries to explain. "And it's my feelings."

"Wait… aren't these my feelings too?" he checks with her.

"Not the point. Shit. He's either gonna kill you or be insanely overbearing."

"You wanna know how the conversation actually went or are you gonna just keep assuming Bobby sucks when he doesn't?" Dean voice changes to something much more authoritative and it gets her true attention. She shuts up. "We were working on that '64 Mustang out back…."

"The old blue junker that Bobby refuses to move with the rest of the old shit boxes?"

Dean's face drops. "You really know _nothing_ about cars, do you?"

"No…."

"Ok, moving on so I can pretend you didn't say that… we're trying to get her working again. It's a little pet project and if I can get her going by the time Sam gets here then I can keep my Impala and Sam can have the Mustang."

"Decent deal."

"Amazing deal. If I didn't love my beauty so much I'd say Sam might be making out in all this. That car has so much potential. Dudes would give their left nut for that car."

"Ok, that's cool of him and all, but when working on that junker Bobby told you he was cool with us… like, being together?" she brings him back in line with the conversation to be had.

"Well, not in so many words." Dean laughs and rubs his palms slowly up and down her thighs to either side of his hips. "He dropped a pretty hard hint about knowing what was going on between us, so I responded."

"With?"

"I just told him he was right," Dean tells her, her eyes huge with it.

"Just like that?" Lizzy nearly outrages at how easily he handled this and told the truth.

"Just like that," he smiles a little. "And he freaked me out. Got real silence for a second and didn't respond while he was clearly thinking way too hard. I figured he was pissed but after a minute he asked me if I loved you."

"Jesus…." She covers her forehead with a hand in stress.

"And I said I did," Dean keeps talking. "And he just nodded and said 'good'."

"Good?"

"Yep."

"What the hell does that mean? _Good_?" Lizzy wonders, not seeing this as an acceptable answer.

"He just answered with 'good'," Dean tells her, saying the word in an impression of Bobby's gruff voice.

"That's it?" Lizzy wonders with shock.

"That's it," Dean tells her. "Give him more credit, Lizzy."

"He's been nothing but… just… a beast to me about _everything_ since we met," Lizzy awes this huge change in her father figure. "I mean, I once told him I liked a guy a town over, some dude I met one night at a bar, and I thought he was gonna take a shotgun to his house himself."

"What!?" Dean asks with shock.

"I refused to tell him the guy's name for good reason," Lizzy huffs a laugh. "Damn it. He really does like you."

"Yeah, he does… and I don't want to let him down and go against his rules." Dean's face lightens and he prays she understands. "You have to get that, right?"

"I do… I don't want to but I do," she sighs hard, back slumping a bit. "And I hate how comfortable you are here, honestly."

"Why?" he asks calmly, having noticed how weird she's been since she returned.

"Because this is my place!" she says to him. "These are my people. I live here when I can and I killed myself to make this set up. I had to beg and do a sit-in out on the porch without leaving for a week before Bobby even considered taking me in. You did it with a fucking smile and a 'yes, sir'. It's bullshit."

Dean laughs.

"That's funny to you?" Lizzy gets pissed.

"A little," Dean says. "I just pictured poor little you, moping on the porch for a week."

"I didn't eat or sleep in a bed for seven days," she says with a straight face. "Karen gave me a sandwich now and then because she felt bad. I got rained on for two freezing nights in a row."

"Jesus…."

"And you got accepted right away," she says to him leaning in close. "What the hell?"

"I have no idea," Dean says honestly. "I couldn't tell you."

"What did you say to him?" she wonders, her voice lowering as her lips come just an inch from his as one of her hands dances down his chest.

"What do you mean?" he asks right back, confused by her.

Lizzy presses a chaste, quick kiss to his lip before reaching behind herself. "You must have said something right to get Bobby to agree and let you in so easily." Her fingertips unexpectedly drag slowly up his hard length blindly. "What sweet talk did you lay on him?"

Dean's eyes close as he feels it and he exhales hard. "I just did what I was told."

"That's it?" she asks, stroking him once through his boxers. "Obeyed like a good boy would?"

"Yes."

"Oh… ok then," she accepts easily and gets up off of him. "Goodnight."

"Where you going?" Dean asks with total confusion.

"You said you wanted to follow the rules. No sex in the house. Sweet dreams, dear," she winks boldly and heads off for the stairs.

"Get back here!" Dean practically yells after that display. She walks out of the room while holding an index finger to her lips, shushing him when he gets too loud.

She just turned him irreversibly on and then ditched over nothing? Fuck this. No way.

Dean gets up off the couch swiftly and runs for the kitchen she's currently walking through with far too much confidence. When he reaches her she's made it as far as the study before he can stop her.

"Dude!" Lizzy shouts when she gets grabbed from behind by the shoulders. She sharply turns and shoves him away but Dean was ready for that. He's grown a bit as a physical fighter since she's last seen him. He can counter her now, hold his own. Before she knows it Dean's grabbing her upper arms and pushing her back-first into the dark wallpapered wall of the room Bobby's claimed as his workspace.

For a quick second Lizzy contemplates fighting back. After years of training it's her first instinct… fight back. But then she takes one look at those darkened green eyes that are burning a stare of true lust right into her and her resolve to punch him out disappears.

"Don't you ever do that again," Dean says seriously, his gravelly voice down yet another octave from where it normally is. He can feel her form shiver with the words.

"Do what?" she tries to say back with lightness and uncaring.

Leaning in closer, he puts his lips right by her ear. "Don't try and mess with my head like that… not if you want me to fuck you ever again. That's not the girl I've fallen in love with."

"Then I'll never do it again, cross my heart," Lizzy plays back a little, giving in only when she can see he's going to need her to. He pulls away from her ear to look at her straight on again. "That's how serious I am about you fucking me absolutely mindless right now." She watches his eyes widen just a hint with that. "It's been one hell of a long month without you."

Her lips are parted just enough and he can feel her breath coming out in hard, small puffs with want. He watches as her dark, needy eyes keep drifting down to his mouth and then back up at his eyes, as if they can't decide where to land.

"Come on," Dean says quickly, his tone demanding as he grasps her hand in his and pulls her along behind him. He heads for the side door and yanks it open, his determination real and strong.

When they come to the gravel driveway Dean aims for the Mustang. It's cold out but their heated disposition for one another keeps the bite of the air away. The gravel kicks up under their bare feet and skitters as they march quickly, Dean dragging her with him in his fueled up state.

"Where are we going?" Lizzy finally asks but she's answered as they make it to the blue Mustang. Dean pulls her in front of him and pushes her smaller form into the side of the car. Her back hits the cold metal and he pins her there, pressing his front to hers and making her unable to move. She looks up at him, his eyes burning. "What are we doing?"

"You're apologizing," Dean answers before ducking down quickly to capture her lips, the kiss he gives her searing with need and something playful.

She kisses him back, her hand coming to the side of his neck with instinct, wanting him close, but instead he grabs her wrist tightly.

"Apologize," Dean says against her lips, his smile clear in his voice.

She laughs a little to herself. "For what?"

"For being rude," he says with annoyance, his hands suddenly gripping hard onto her hips as he presses his own forward into her.

She can feel how turned on he is once his cock presses into her stomach, warm and rock hard. His hands drag hard up her sides, fingertips pressing into her skin, taking her t-shirt with it a bit.

Feeling her soft, warm form against him for the first time in a month apart, he groans into her ear with desire before saying, "Say you're sorry and I keep going."

"Mm," Lizzy moans out when Dean's tongue draws a pattern on the sensitive skin just under her ear, his hands working up under her shirt. When he has a breast cupped per hand, her braless form making his life just so damn good, she has to say, "No."

"What?" Dean says quietly, shocked by this. He thought he had her.

"You've lost your fucking mind," Lizzy responds, her voice coming out much less determined and much more breathy than she'd prefer.

"You think I'm joking," Dean asks her without backing away an inch, keeping her strongly pinned there as his fingertips brush over her nipples as he hips press into him with want. "I think you need to say you're sorry for trashing talking all what that I've been doing here. I've been killing myself to train up and you're just jealous that someone else is getting on Bobby's good side."

Lizzy buzzes with want as he continues to cup each breast, thumbs brushing against her nipples. "This is dumb."

"Are you really that stubborn?" Dean questions, sucking her earlobe into his mouth lightly, his fingers still working her tortuously light on her chest, her sensitive skin tingling. Dean grinds his hardness against her again, like a reminder of what could be. "You say sorry and I'll fuck you right here against this car."

Lizzy groans with a mix of desperate and wild need yet utter distaste for his tactics. She's no pushover. She's no apologetic angel.

"Come on, Lizzy," Dean's smooth yet still roughed up voice chides on, the sound shooting right through her as one of his hands drifts lower over her tight stomach. "All you have to do is tell little me you're sorry." His voice is bordering a taunting. "Then you get what you really want."

This is an all-out power struggle.

"Fuck you," Lizzy sighs with her head dropping forward, the idea of having to humble herself just to get laid not something she's kosher with. But it's Dean, the guaranteed good time he promises totally worth it. But her pride… shit!

"Exactly," Dean chuckles lightly again as his hand keeps traveling lower. When he reaches her shorts his fingers waste no time in dipping beneath her clothing. "And you want it. Bad."

"Not _that_ bad…."

"Liar," Dean immediately calls her out when he feels her. "You're so wet for me you should be ashamed."

"Oh God," Lizzy moans when his hand zeros in on her clit, her knees bending with weakness. "Dude, I'm not apologizing for that. I wasn't that mean."

"Then I'm not touching you."

And just like that Dean backs away, hand out of her shorts and his body no longer pressed to hers. By the time Lizzy turns around he's already taking his first few steps back to the house.

"What the fuck!?" Lizzy nearly shouts at him.

"You don't respect me and what I've been doing this past month then I don't want to do this."

"Are you serious right now!?"

"Told you what you had to do," Dean just shrugs, arms out to the sides as he keeps walking. "You didn't want to do it."

Never in her life has Lizzy met a man that could absolutely infuriate her yet at the very same time make her absolutely desperate and wonton for him. It pisses her off, the power he has over her.

"You could just walk away from this right now and go to sleep?" Lizzy asks him angrily.

Dean pauses mid-step for a moment, thinking before turning around. "I spent the last month jerking it to porn. What's one more night, huh?" He grins with triumph and goes back to walking casually for the side door.

"Fucking asshole," Lizzy mutters quietly to herself and she sees red. Without thinking she runs for him, her feet flying over gravel until she reaches him. She then jumps onto his back and clings on, and arm around his neck in a choke hold and the other arm locking it in place for leverage.

"What… are you… doing?" Dean struggles out, grabbing the forearm pressed to his Adam's apple. Lizzy just keeps pressure on his throat without completely blocking his airway. "I just did… the same thing… you did… to me."

"But I'm the one with the skills. And this is _my_ home," Lizzy rebuts, speaking into his ear are she locks her ankles around his middle.

Dean rolls his eyes as he reaches behind himself. He grabs her around her waist with one arm and his opposite hand unhooks her ankles. Quickly he pinches her side, having gotten the information from her that she's ticklish through one of the many conversation they've shared on the phone this past month, and she shrieks with it. Lizzy's arms loosen enough around his neck that he can pry them open. His arm that's around her waist behind him holds tightly and pulls her off of himself.

"Jesus," Lizzy shocks with total surprise, eyes huge on him as he swiftly takes the startled moment to bend down and tosses her over his shoulder.

As he walks while carrying her, Dean glances to his side and grins wide when he sees her ass on full display, her shorts riding up high.

"You were just saying about skills?" he cockily asks as he slaps her ass cheek hard, the skin to skin contact biting.

Lizzy yelps loud and sharp. "Fuck! What the hell, Dean?"

With a laugh of victory, Dean starts back for the Mustang without putting her down. "Are you always this much of a crazy chick?"

"Fuck off!" Lizzy gets angry for the label, her fists landing hard onto his back with ire.

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I'm seeing," he huffs as he reaches the closed trunk of the classic car. He plops her down onto it so that she's sitting at the edge and Dean moves to stand between her legs and keep her there. "First you wake me up by pinning me down and telling me I'm stealing your family." He brings his hands up, one lightly to either side of her neck. "Then you insult me while knowingly turning me on. _And then_ you walk away with the plan to give me the worst case of blue balls that has ever existed just because I wanted to follow house rules. And when I turn it around and give you a taste of your own medicine?" He hands tighten and he pulls her closer, his lips practically touching hers as he locks eyes with her. She looks stunned and lust blown and yet a little intimidated. This is new. "You couldn't handle it."

"Yes I could…."

"Liz, you tried to choke me out," Dean says sternly, brow lowered. "Now, seems to me that might have been a touch dramatic."

Narrowed eyes glare back at him.

"See, the girl I fell for was fun and wasn't nuts. The girl I've been dying to get my hands on wouldn't insult my car and then leave me hanging. Is this who you really are? Because if it is then tell me now. I'll have to get my 'it's not you, it's me' speech ready for you."

With that her entire expression and body language drops, melting away all the anger to reveal the regret and confusion she really feels.

"What's going on with you?" Dean asks, this whole thing clearly not her and most certainly not expected.

Her hands come to his sides lightly and she sighs heavily. He moves his hands down to her shoulders and waits.

"I'm sorry," Lizzy tells him. "I am." She can't look at him. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing." She sadly laughs at herself, let down by her own ways.

"You do," Dean nods. "You just have to think about it for a second. You'll see it."

Nodding lightly, Lizzy bite her bottom lip for a brief second. "You scare me."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't you!?" Lizzy counters quickly. "I mean, come the fuck on. I was not ready for you at all."

"So what?" Dean asks, not getting it.

"So what!? So… you ruined everything!"

The face he makes is one of sheer pain at her words.

"No, wait… shit," Lizzy backtracks immediately. "That sounded way worse than I meant it."

"Ok…." He's utterly confused now.

"Dean, I… my life was set. I had Bobby and Karen. I hunted. I helped people. And then one day something would get the drop on me and it was over. Life was scary but I would save as many people as I could and go down swinging. At least it was easy, you know?"

"I guess," Dean answers, slightly understanding.

"And now?" Her voice elevates with her fears and worries and she clears her throat to prevent any emotional takeovers. "That last hunt, when I got my ass handed to me… I almost didn't make it out."

"What!?" Dean asks with fright.

"I was cornered. No weapons on me, beat to shit… I thought for sure that demon had me pushing daisies. Garth came in last second, thank God, but the whole time I was there, sure I was done for… all I thought about was how not ready I was. And all I could think about was you."

Dean wishes he didn't smile like some flattered girl for that but he does.

"How I didn't have enough time with you yet, how sad you'd be if I died right then, how I… how I couldn't just leave you like that and how I never got to have the life I deserve." She looks away again, revealing a whole lot about herself. "I always told myself it was ok… I would hunt until I die and it would be a justified cause to die for. But now… I don't want to die before I have a chance to have a better life than this. And I don't want to die before I get to see what this is with us."

The look she shares with him makes him realize exactly how hard this is for her and that she's being more open with him than she's possibly ever been with someone.

"I'm doing way too much talking," Lizzy huffs within an embarrassed laugh as she continues to look away from him once she's realized how badly she's just burst out her thoughts and feelings. "I'm so sorry…."

"For being honest with me?" Dean disbelieves.

Lizzy smiles oddly. "I tend to get weirdly emotional or whatever every time I almost die."

His heart plummets into his feet. "How many times have you almost died on the job?"

Glancing at him before letting her eyes scan elsewhere, she lightly responds with, "Like… a handful of times."

Only taking a couple seconds to let the sadness of that idea seep in, Dean leans down and wraps her up in a tight hug. He holds her close, chin on her shoulder, as he lets out one hard breath. "It's ok to be scared, Lizzy."

"I'm not scared," Lizzy tells him with what she thought would come out as confidence. Instead the words wavered with obvious lie.

"Yes you are," Dean tells her, a hand to the back of her head lovingly when he starts to realize how lucky he is to have this moment with her at all. He could have lost her. "And losing you? That scares the shit outta me too."

"We barely know each other," Lizzy laughs a little at everything that just happened as it sinks in. "Fuck, what am I doing? I'm sorry for being so fucked up." She lets go of the hug and sits back on the trunk of the old car. "God, you must think I'm a psychopath or something."

"No," Dean huffs with understanding. "I grew up in a broken home with an alcoholic, occasionally physical father. Emotional roller coasters are most definitely in my wheelhouse."

She lets out a hardly laugh at that. "We're fucking disasters."

Dean grins wide. "Yeah, we are." He grabs her hands in his and holds them hard. "Just don't be a crazy chick, ok? Tell me what happened when you get back, tell me when shit's getting too weird for you, tell me when you're feeling nuts. I can hack it much easier than whatever game you were trying to play just now."

"Oh my God, I could actually feel myself being a total nutjob," Lizzy admits, humiliated by her behavior now that he's talked her down. "I'm serious. I'm really sorry about that. I always knew I got weird after a bad hunt but this? This is way more than the usual. I just missed you so much and the whole near death experience combined with seeing you getting along with Bobby and Karen maybe _too_ well… it all put me in a bad place."

"Stop worrying about everything else," Dean says to her, his arms coming around her shoulders with comfortable ease. "Just relax, huh? You're alive, your home, I'm here… what more could you want?"

"A place to tear into you without waking the elders, maybe," Lizzy says to him, nodding to the second floor window that belongs to the Singer's bedroom. There's a light on in the room.

"Shit, we woke them up?" Dean complains.

The second the question is out of his mouth the side door to the house flies open. "The hell is going on out here!?"

"Sorry, Bobby," Lizzy immediately says to him.

"You idjits get your asses back in here!" Bobby angrily commands. "And keep it down! We got people sleeping in here."

"We're really sorry, Bobby," Dean tries again.

They both hear the older man grumble to himself and shake his head while walking back into the house, door still open for them.

"Bed time, I guess," Dean tells her sadly as she helps her down from the car and they begin heading for the door, this time calmly.

"Can you promise me something?" Lizzy asks while walking.

"Depends…."

She smiles up at him. "Promise that you'll call my bullshit the next time I get psycho?"

He laughs out loud at that one. "Not a problem, you batshit crazy bitch."

"Ugh," she hands her head and covers her eyes with her free hand. "I'm so embarrassed…."

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait," Lizzy stops him right as he's about to swing yet another combination her way during their mid-morning training session.

"What!? Why!?" Dean gets angry, dropping his arms to his sides with exasperation and a sigh. She keeps doing this, interrupting his flow to interject comments and helpful hints. It's annoying the shit out of him.

"You were gonna throw the same combo at me for the fourth time in a row," she tells him calmly, no bite and no scolding meant.

"No I wasn't." He's lying.

Lizzy's face drops with annoyance. "You weren't gonna punch with the right, jab left, and then punch right again?" Her eyebrow cocks with certainty.

Staring at her for a second, tapping his foot and licking his bottom lip once, he gets pissed. "So what if I was?"

"You can't be that predictable," she tells him as if he's being dense. "If I can pick out a pattern in an opponent? Well, let's just say you better hope you're not that guy."

Dean rolls his eyes as he puts his hands on his hips and walks in a small circle, completely irked. He thought this would be way easier, especially since Bobby's been pretty complimentary on his progress lately.

"Don't get all pissed off because I'm trying to make you better."

"Don't nitpick every fucking move I make then," Dean fires out, getting frustrated.

Lizzy looks at him with funny surprise. "I'm not trying to nitpick, Dean. I'm trying to keep you from getting your ass killed."

"You're telling me how much I suck at every turn," he turns it around.

Lizzy smiles sweetly when she can see his best qualities through his annoyance. He's mad because he wants to be better. And the sweaty face, pink cheeks, disheveled hair? "You're so fucking cute."

"Not helping!" he yells at her with growing frustration.

"Sorry," she grins and steps closer to him, her white-taped hands landing on his shoulders. "Look, this isn't supposed to be easy…."

"Yeah, I know, but it's made even harder when it's your foot shorter girlfriend kicking your ass and telling you how wrong you are every five seconds while doing it. All while injured and not even at one-hundred percent either!"

Lizzy's face widens into a massive grin.

"What!?" Dean asks with pure anger.

She shimmies her shoulders jokingly a little as she brings her arms around his neck. "I'm your girlfriend?"

"Not now you ain't!" Dean says, and shoves her away. This is not how he wants to have this conversation, while pissed off. When he sees her still smiling he gets even angrier. "Let's just get this over with, huh?"

"Sure thing, honey," Lizzy smirks and resumes her fighting stance.

"Son of a bitch," Dean grits out quietly to himself with the pet name.

"Just trust me, boyfriend," she winks at him and starts hopping foot to foot. "When I'm done with you, you'll be ready for anything."

"You think you're so fucking good," Dean chides on as he gets ready, a plan in place to end his predictability and really get her this time.

"Because I _am_ good." She grins wide.

"So am I, sweetheart," Dean tells her as he advances quickly, ducking her thrown punch to grab her arm. He yanks it down and around. Lizzy's body fallows with the momentum and before she knows it he's using her good arm to flip her onto her back on the warehouse's cold cement.

"Ooph!" Lizzy pushes out as the air rushes from her lungs with the harsh landing. Dean's on top of her in a second and in two seconds she's blocking punch after punch.

He gets an idea. When Lizzy finds what she thinks is an opening she takes a swing. Dean not only blocks it but grabs her wrist, flipping her onto her stomach.

"Shit," she complains as he straddles her ass, sitting hard with all his weight on her. She can feel her hip bones pressing into the ground.

"Damn right, shit," Dean repeats with glee, pulling her arms behind her back and holding them there, forearms together. "You like apples?"

"What!?" Lizzy asks, totally confused.

"I asked…" he says, leaning over her when she stops struggling, knowing that without a weapon she's been pinned. Right into her ear, he asks again in a lowered voice, "Do you like apples?"

Lizzy shakes her head, not getting it.

"'Cause I just pinned you're ass!" Dean shouts and celebrates. "How do you like them apples!? Whoo!"

Lizzy groans with upset and pissed off embarrassment as Dean hollers with total pride, standing up off of her and raising his fists.

"You didn't even give me a minute to try and get out of it," Lizzy excuses for herself.

"You weren't getting out, doesn't matter!"

"Guess we'll never know," she does her best to bring him down. She can't believe she let him best her.

"No, no, no!" he points at her as she stands up. "Don't you dare try and ruin this for me! I kicked your ass!"

"Fine. Congrats, you jackass." She lets her arms fly out to the sides. "You got the best of your girlfriend that's half your size. Well done."

"Wow, you're a poor loser," Dean smirks at her, hands on his hips as he tries to catch his breath.

"When I lose to rookies like you, definitely," she rolls out her shoulder.

"You alright?" Dean instantly asks, his forehead wrinkled in high concern. He didn't even want to spar today with her injury but Bobby insisted and she claimed she could do it. Now he's completely focused on her wellbeing, his victory be damned.

"Dude, I'm fine. Ok, I'm fine," she assures for the millionth time. "All I need is a couch and a fucking beer."

"Before or after I get my prize?" he asks, his eyes once more lighting up with something very bright yet slightly evil.

Lizzy just rolls hers. "You wanna go _now_?"

"I wanted to go the second you got out of your car yesterday!" he says with insistence. "I'm am dying here. I say now."

Lizzy thinks it over. "Well, if we lie and said it took you a really long time to win one on me then we probably have… like a half hour?"

"Works for me," Dean grins. "Where?"

"The truck out back," she answers, heading for the door.

"Classy."

"This isn't about class," Lizzy huffs a laugh and holds the door to the warehouse open for him. "It's about avoiding Bobby. "So, you win, you pick. What's your choice?"

"Mm," Dean hums, looking her over again. When he walks to her he slides his hand over her hip and past to feel her ass through the yoga pants he loves so damn much. "I'm thinking getting this fine ass up in the air will do the trick."

"The trick?" she laughs at his choice in words as he exits the building, following him as the door shuts behind her.

"Yeah. Probably won't need a whole half-hour with that view…."


	47. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 10)

Quietly reading through yet another book of all things demonic, this time one that's centuries old, Dean's head lifts when he hears it. That rumble. That beautiful, sexy rumble of a pristine, 1967 total beast motor. It's one of the sweetest sounds there is, right up there with the sound of Sam actually laughing and Lizzy's voice when she sighs out her first quiet moan when they're alone.

"My beauty," he grins like an idiot and is off the couch in a second, ditching the vintage book for far better things. He runs to the side door like an overly excited kid sprinting for the ice cream truck and Lizzy just laughs at him from the chair across the room.

"Bobby! Karen!" she yells out as Dean disappears. "Sam's here!"

Outside, Dean stands in the gravel driveway and waits, watching as the shiny black Impala pulls up to him. His face is breaking with the smile on it. His brother and his car. Now life is truly complete.

"Hey!" Sam greets loudly as he opens the driver's side door and steps out. He barely has his second foot on the ground before Dean's got him in a crushing bear hug. "Ugh…."

"Hey-ya, Sammy," he smiles, tightly pulling his little brother in. He sighs. "It's good to see ya, man."

"You too," Sam laughs at him before backing up a step. "Jesus. I think you broke a rib."

"Sorry. Just… missed you, man," Dean shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck with slight embarrassment for his enthusiasm.

Sam catches his arm flexing in the basic t-shirt his big brother is wearing and his eyes widen a touch. "Dude, you're like… huge."

"Yeah, uh," he nods a little as he drops his arm. "Lizzy and Bobby've been kicking my ass into shape."

"I can see that…."

"Hi, Sam!" Lizzy calls over as she heads out of the house, an older couple right behind her. She jogs over quickly.

"Hey, Lizzy," Sam returns, still a little awkward with the woman that once had a mission to kill him but he's working past it. She walks right up to him and hugs him hard around the neck, throwing him off a bit with her friendliness.

"Had an easy trip?" she asks.

"Easy enough, but _long_," he answers before backing away when he sees Dean inspecting the car. "She's just like you left her, Dean. I swear."

"Yeah… what's this?" Dean asks, his face getting serious as he points to the keyhole on the driver's side door.

"What's what?" Sam rolls his eyes and joins him.

"A scratch? Really?" Dean gets upset. "You can't be careless when you unlock her. You miss and you scratch up the paint."

Sam bites his tongue with the scrutiny. "Whatever, dude," is all he answers with.

"You must be Sam," a gruff voice asks and Sam turns around to find an older man with a scruffy beard and trucker hat extending his hand to him.

"Yes, sir," Sam nods and gives him a good shake. "It's good to meet you, Mister Singer. Dean's said a lot of great things about you."

"Well, wasn't it kind of Dean to lie like that?" Karen jokes as she also extends a hand. "I'm Karen. It's so good to meet you, Sam."

"Hi, Missus Singer," Sam grins kindly and he can tell Karen is on his side already. She's so warm and loving, according to Dean at least, and he can see it instantly. "Thanks for having me. Seriously."

"It is no problem, dear," she answers. "Why don't you come on in and have some pie."

"Pie?" Sam cocks an eyebrow and looks to Dean. "Now I know why you never came back."

"Just wait. Best freakin' pie in the world," Dean says with bragging confidence.

"Stop sucking up, Dean," Karen scolds with a laugh and ushers everyone into the house.

* * *

After a day of puttering around and showing Sam the property along with the wonders of a large, home cooked meal, they all made sure the young man was settled in enough. Now it's time to hit the hay and get ready for a busy day.

"You boys all comfy?" Lizzy jokes as she looks them over. Dean gave Sam the couch as any good big brother would. The tall man's feet dangle off the edge but it'll have to do. And Dean's on a simple bedroll on the floor of the living room a few feet away.

"Oh, just peachy," Dean jokes dryly, not at all comfortable.

"Dean, you can have the couch…" Sam starts.

"No, no. It's fine," Dean pushes the thought off. "You drove halfway across the country. You can have the couch."

"Or the bed," Lizzy tries one more time. "You can take it. I'm more than ok with it."

"I'm not. Thanks, though," Sam tells her and pulls the blanket over him to mid chest.

"Well, then… guess I'll leave you two," Lizzy smiles, walking to Dean and kneeling to the floor next to him. "Goodnight."

When she leans in to give him a quick kiss in parting Dean has other plans. He locks his arms around her neck and holds her close jokingly, kissing her hard and not letting her go even when she starts laughing into his mouth.

"Dea…" she tries to stop him when she gets an inch between them but gets cut off by his lips again. She laughs harder.

And Sam shakes his head yet grins. He's seen it all day. Dean's happy. Maybe ecstatic even. Lizzy's good for him. She's tough and has completely whipped him into shape. And Dean's most certainly whipped.

"Ok! Enough!" she chuckles as she shoves him away. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she stands up. "Ass."

"You love it!" Dean grins and pats her ass once as she leaves the room.

"Goodnight, jerks!" Lizzy says with a grin and walks away.

Dean watches her, stupid smile on his face as he does, and Sam huffs a disgusted laugh at it all.

Head sharply turning to his little brother for the sound he made, Dean asks, "What?"

Sam smirks.

"Spit it out, Sammy. Get it over with."

"You're so whipped!" Sam blurts out and starts a gut-busting laugh. "Oh my God! It's so pathetic!"

"Alright," Dean nods and rolls his eyes, sitting up on the floor and watching his brother lose it.

"Holy shit," he keeps going. "The staring at her all the time, the stupid look on your face… you gave her the last bite of your piece of pie!"

"This is good," Dean nods as he just takes the gruff. "Get it all out now, little brother."

"I can't believe it!" Sam keeps going. "You're like a sad, loyal little puppy following her around everywhere."

"You done?"

"Does she have you answering to commands yet?"

"You're hilarious…."

"Speak, Dean!" Sam starts to command while still laughing. "Sit, boy! Hold my purse!"

Dean actually laughs at this one. It was pretty funny. "Please. The only commands I listen to are 'don't stop' and 'keep going'." He cocks an eyebrow right before a pillow hits him in the face. "Hey!"

"That's gross, Dean," Sam says, no longer laughing and showing a sour expression. "I don't need to think about that."

"Whatever," Dean laughs off. "And I'm not whipped, ok? I just… she's worth being different for."

"Different as in a pussy?" Sam challenges.

"Different as in nice. And just… better," Dean tells him. "I don't know if you noticed but before I met her wasn't always so nice to girls."

"_Noooo_!" Sam sarcastically replies.

"Ha-ha," Dean answers quickly back. "But I wanna be a better person for her. She deserves it."

"She deserves it for trying to kill me?" Sam reminds.

"Are you ever gonna get over that?"

"That's a pretty big one to look past."

"Well, she deserves a good guy because she _didn't_ kill you, ok? She backed off." Dean answers. "I just… she's a good girl."

"Look, I'm giving you a hard time. I like her, too," Sam admits. "I think she's good for you. She's already made you a better person and I didn't think anyone could do that."

"You still think you're _so_ hilarious…."

"And you seem really happy, Dean," Sam adds in, actually getting serious. "Like, happier than I've seen you."

"I am." Dean smiles and nods, knowing she does make him that happy.

"Good… it's good to know you made the right decision," Sam tells him. "And it seems like Bobby and Karen like you well enough."

"Dude, they love me," Dean brags. "Karen especially."

"No, I think after seeing the car Bobby's the one that loves you," Sam laughs a little. "Didn't think you'd ever get him out of the driver's seat."

"He got her up to a buck ten on the back roads at a straight away," Dean smiles wide. "It was awesome."

"I just can't believe you let him drive."

"I trust him." Dean shrugs.

"No shit." Sam shakes his head. "You're really fitting in well here. Or at least it seems that way."

"It's been good, Sammy. Don't you worry about me." The grin on his face is assured and comfortable.

"Yeah, I mean… it's almost like you got yourself a new family or something," Sam huffs and tries to play it cool, failing miserably. His insecurities are clearly coming through.

"The hell you talking about?" Dean wrinkles his expression with the comment.

"No, it's just… come on, man," Sam gives up hiding it. "We've never been a family, not a real one."

Dean face drops. "That's not true."

"Yes it is," Sam says with an understanding voice, not upset. He's accepted it a long time ago. "Mom's been gone practically our whole lives and dad's been… well, he's never been a dad."

"But _we're_ family," Dean reminds him with hurt. "You and me. We're brothers."

"Please," Sam rolls his eyes. "You were my dad, Dean. And my mom even. You did everything for me. Hell, you bought me my first bike and taught me how to ride it. You took pictures before the prom while dad was passed out. You were the one at graduation, the one buying my first semester books, hell… you changed nearly every diaper I wore."

"Don't remind me," Dean jokes with a scrunched nose.

"Don't joke, man. I'm serious."

"Me too. You always could wreck a diaper," Dean smirks and gets Sam to smile too.

"Point is… we never had a whole family unit. We only had this fucked up version of a family where my dad, mom, and brother were one person. That's not the same as you have here," Sam explains, the green envy obvious even if he is genuinely happy for Dean.

"Well, give it a few days," Dean suggests. "Get to know these people. They're solid people. And if they're dumb enough to take me in then you're a shoe in."

Sam laughs quietly. "Is that how sad our lives are these days? We're applying for family membership with strangers."

"No. They're applying to be a part of us," Dean assures. "Because we're awesome."

"Yeah… that's true," Sam jests right along. "We are pretty awesome."

"Damn straight," Dean says with pride. "You and me, kid. We turned out alright."

"Somehow."

Dean nods. "Alright, time for you to pass out. We gotta get you caught up on everything the right way."

"Ok," Sam nods easily and tucks in a little tighter. Dean gets up out of his sleeping bag and Sam watches with confusion. "Where you going?"

Dean pauses on his way to the stairs. He scoffs. "You think I'm sleeping on the floor when Lizzy's got a double bed? Please."

As Dean slinks silently up the stairs Sam just rolls onto his side and closes his eyes.

When he reaches the top of the stairs Dean pauses and listens closely. Holding his breath he tries to pick up on snoring, movement, anything that would let him know if Bobby and Karen are awake or not. He gets nothing and banks on them being asleep.

Quietly padding his bare feet to the bedroom he knows Lizzy is in, he slowly turns the knob. Not a sound, he walks into the room and shuts the door behind him. The lightest of clicks when it shuts fully and Dean turns around to face the bed… and the barrel of a gun.

"Whoa!"

"Shh!" Lizzy harshly responds when he's a little too loud with the surprise. She lowers her Glock and puts the safety back on. "What the fuck are you doing!?" she whispers at him with upset where she sits up in bed, eyes wide in the moonlight coming into the room.

"Shitting my pants, apparently," Dean says quickly, a hand over his rapidly beating heart. "Jesus, Liz."

"Jesus yourself! You're the one coming in here all sneaky!" she berates in a harsh whisper. "I could've shot you!"

"Why are you sleeping with a gun!?" Dean asks with total shock.

"I'm a fucking hunter, idiot!" she yells in a hush back at him. "With all the shit out in the world, half of which has a target on hunters like me, you think I'm just gonna sleep naked?"

Dean tilts his head a little and takes a couple steps forward. "I was kinda hoping."

"_Funny_," she shakes her head and sighs, tucking her handgun back under her pillow. "Always be prepared, Dean. That's your lesson of the day."

"Become a Boy Scout is your lesson?" Dean jokes slightly, sitting onto the foot of the bed and placing a hand on her ankle through the comforter.

"Sure. Just don't ever get caught with your pants down…."

"I was kinda hoping…."

"Shut up," Lizzy stops him there. "I'm dead serious. Don't ever let your guard down. Always be ready for the worst case, ok?"

The way her eyes look at him hard, all fun and innuendo he deals out landing on her very deaf ears with the message she's trying to get across, makes him stop and take her seriously.

"Yeah, ok," Dean nods.

"Don't '_yeah, ok_' this. Tell me you'll always be ready for whatever could come your way, even if it seems like overkill," she tries again, needing him to be cautious.

"I'll be a Boy Scout," Dean swear, hand gripping her ankle tighter. "You ok?"

"Fine…." She looks away.

"Try that again," Dean tells her, knowing she's lying.

"I just… I can't lose you, ok?"

That's all she says. She just can't handle the idea of him disappearing from her life. It's a simple promise to make and try to keep so he does. "Don't worry about me. I'm not going anywhere."

Trying her best to take any solace she can in the empty vow no hunter can make, she nods. "Ok. Good. What the hell are you doing up here?"

"You think the floor feels good?" he asks while crawling up the mattress and pulling back the blankets.

"Dean," she calls his name but he keeps moving, getting under the covers and cozying up into her side. "_Dean_."

"_What_?" he echoes back her tone of voice as he pulls her close with an arm around her waist, face burying into her hair.

"You can't be in here, idiot," Lizzy reminds. "Bobby will kill you."

"We ain't doing the dirty," Dean tells her. "Just sleeping."

"Point was you sleep on the couch when under his roof," she keeps trying despite running a hand through his short hair.

"He didn't say squat about the floor," he points out. "That sucks. I'm sleeping here tonight." He settles in better, getting on his back and yanking her into his side. He pulls her arm across his chest and tucks her head into his neck.

"If he catches you…."

"Shh," he hushes her, pressing his fingers to her lips. "Go to sleep already."

She bites her lips together to stop the laugh from coming out. Who is this guy? Rule abider one second, rule breaker the next. Whatever. She's pretty damn comfortable like this. He's warm and he's holding her close… protecting her….

* * *

The loud banging of wooden door hitting plaster startles them both awake like a shot.

"_The hell are you two doing_!?"

Lizzy and Dean are both sitting up tall with wide eyes on the man in the doorway of the bedroom, his scowl loud and prominent.

Shit, they slept too late.

"I can explain," Dean says, hands out with innocence as he scrambles out of Lizzy's bed.

"I told you the rules of the house!" Bobby shouts with anger, disliking the entire view in front of him. He went down stairs and saw Sam passed out on the couch with no Dean on the floor. He knew right away something was up and after taking a swift walk around his property, seeing him nowhere and his car still in the driveway, he knew exactly where the young man was.

"Nothing happened, Bobby," Lizzy jumps in, defending herself and Dean. "Dean just didn't want to sleep on the floor…."

"Boo-fucking-hoo!" Bobby yells, eyes hard on Dean. "You both knew the rules under this roof!"

"We did, we did," Dean agrees. "And, and we all know you didn't want us to… have relations… in your house. We've never broken that rule!"

Eyes wider than before, Bobby gives him the death stare. "I may like you, boy… but I love that girl like my own. You mess with her and you ain't gonna like the consequences that'll rain down on your head…."

"Bobby!" Karen's voice is heard as footsteps get closer. She pushes her way into the doorframe of Lizzy's room, wrapped hastily in her robe, and looks in. "Oh, no. You two…."

"Karen, we didn't do anything," Lizzy repeats for her and also gets out of bed. She walks right up to her adoptive parents. "I don't lie to you two. I know we fucked up a little…."

"Language!" Karen scolds.

"But we didn't do anything. We slept," Lizzy tells her truthfully. "And if by now you don't trust me enough to know I'm telling the truth then… shit, I don't know what to tell you."

Bobby grits his teeth as Karen just sighs. They think it over. She makes a good point.

"I don't like it," Bobby airs his opinion.

"You don't say," Dean jests at the wrong time, anger flaring in Bobby.

"Look, we get it," Lizzy tries again, standing between the angry father and accidentally mouthy boyfriend. "We messed up. If you can't trust us then Dean will sleep on the floor from here on out."

When Bobby knows she's making all good points he just turns around and leaves the room, stomping down the stairs. Karen just crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. "Oh, you ticked him off this time."

"Karen, please tell me you believe me at least," Lizzy tries.

"Honey, I believe you," Karen explains. "But you broke the rules. They were easy ones and we don't ask much."

"I know that," Lizzy answers back, head hung with guilt. "I'm sorry, ok?"

"Me too," Dean adds in, knowing now what terrible idea it was for him to come up to her room the night before.

Karen sighs as she looks down the hall to the stairs Bobby stomped down moments before, turning back to them with a face of worry. "Lizzy, you know we look at you like our own…"

"I know," she nods.

"And he just wants to protect you."

"I don't need protecting from Dean," Lizzy laughs a little.

"And I know that… and so does Bobby deep down," Karen tries to make her understand. "So hang in there and follow the rules, dear. This isn't easy on him either."

"Fair enough," Lizzy answer back, getting it a little better now.

"And… I just want to make sure… be safe you two, hm?" Karen lets out her own fears. "Don't make a mistake that will last a lifetime."

They hear her loud and clear.

"Always, Karen," Dean promises her. "Don't worry about that."

"Good," she nods. "I'm going to get a head start on breakfast."

Karen leaves them be and Dean lets out a hard breath. "That sucked," he laughs a little.

Lizzy marches right over to him and punches his upper arm hard.

"Ow!"

"This is your fault!" she blames right away, index finger in his face. "I _told you_ this was a bad idea!"

"I forgot to set my alarm, I'm sorry!" Dean excuses.

"Ugh, I hate when they're mad at me!" she plops down on the foot of the bed. "Sucks."

"They'll be fine," Dean assures her, sitting next to her. "We didn't do anything really wrong here."

"Yeah…" she mopes and sits with a hunched back. "I just… I don't ever let them down."

"Ever?" Dean questions, arm around her shoulders.

"No," Lizzy tells the truth. "I wasn't an easy kid for my parents. I was always lying and doing shit I shouldn't do. When I was given a second chance when Bobby and Karen took me in, I turned it all around. I wasn't gonna be a that kid for them. I mean, they didn't even _have_ to take me in in the first place. I wanted to be worth the chance they took on me, not a burden."

"But this isn't that big a deal," Dean tells her. "I know Bobby's overprotective and all but if he gets that pissed at you over something this small then he's wrong. If he doesn't know by now that you're a good kid then he's never gonna know."

Lizzy nods her head a little but her mood never lightens.

"Get dressed," Dean smiles and pats her knee before getting up and walking for the door. "I gotta go out back and kick your ass." He winks at her.

"You fucking wish," Lizzy eyes him, ready to prove him wrong even while a moping mess.

* * *

"Jesus," Sam comments under his breath when Lizzy starts to laugh, backing away from Dean after he landed a solid blow to her side. He can't believe what he's seeing. The two of them are 'training', or as he sees it, beating the ever-living shit out of each other. When Dean invited him out back for this he wasn't ready at all. This is nuts.

"Ok!" Lizzy says, walking the hit off. "Hold up a second."

"No fucking way!" Dean denies and advances on her. "You always tell me there are no time outs with monsters."

"Fuck," Lizzy complains, knowing he's right, as she jumps a few times, getting psyched back up. "You got me hard that time."

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Dean patronizes, ready to attack. "Can't hack it?" He throws a punch that she easily blocks. "Did I get too good for you?"

"Only in your dreams, honey," Lizzy laughs at him, groaning when her side flairs up. He did punch her maybe a little too hard and with the still painful shoulder she's rocking it's been hard to keep up with the much improved hunter-in-training.

"Dean, come on, man," Sam suddenly shouts over to them as he stands up from the old stool he's been sitting on. "She's hurt…."

"And sometimes you get hurt hunting," Dean says back, never taking his eyes off of Lizzy as she straightens up and takes a deep breath. He can see the pain all over her but he knows her well enough. She doesn't want to stop. "Liz is fine."

"She's clearly not…."

"Sam, it's all good," Lizzy assures, also not taking her eyes off of her opponent. She takes a stance to prepare but feels the trouble she's in. Her side hurts, her shoulder keeps bursting with pain when she uses it… she might lose this one.

Dean thinks quickly and takes advantage of how off she is. He comes at her and throws a series of punches, all which he knew she'd easily block. The one thing she didn't know was that there was a tire iron on the floor behind her. He gets her to move back as he advances on her, her feet near the metal tool.

"Shit, watch out!" Sam says just as Lizzy trips over the tire iron and falls backwards. She hits her back hard on the concrete, her head bumping the solid ground also.

"Fuck! Ugh," Lizzy groans with the sheer pain. She rolls onto her side a bit and starts to curl in on her shoulder, everything on fire, but Dean climbs onto her fast before she can.

Pinning her down when he straddles her smaller form, Dean gets his hands around her throat. He applies enough pressure to make it clear he's got the upper hand on her now.

"Gotcha," Dean smirks as Lizzy looks up at him, vulnerable and done for. "I could kill you right now."

Lightning quick, Lizzy's right arm flies up from her boot and before Dean can do anything about it he has the sharp edge of a gleaming blade at his throat.

"Get the fuck off of me," Lizzy growls through a partially blocked airway.

"Fuck me," Dean complains and stands up, backing away when he knows he can't win this one. Even if he tries to take her weapon in the many ways she taught him she'd know it was coming. And he's not fully up on his weaponry defense yet. "You cheated!"

Lizzy coughs a few times, groaning once more with the pain it causes. "Shit. Ow." She curls up on her side. Between her back, head, shoulder, and side she's done for the day. "Didn't cheat."

"I didn't know you were bringing a knife to a fist fight!" Dean gets angry.

"You didn't give me a good ocular pat down, idiot," Lizzy grinds out while dealing with her anguish. She feels someone grabbing her elbow and upper arm gently before pulling. She looks up and sees Sam, letting him get her on her feet. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Sam responds. "What the hell is wrong with you, Dean?"

"Me!?" Dean reacts harshly. "You serious? She pulled a knife on me!"

"Because she's hurt!" Sam gets mad, turning to Lizzy. "You alright?"

"No," she huffs lightly. "But it's my fault. Dean did what he was supposed to do, Sam. Give him a break."

Speechless at first, Sam backs up a step and looks at them both. Sweaty, disheveled, and hurt he's blown away. "This is what you've been doing?"

"This is some of it," Dean nods.

Sam just shakes his head as he tries to process everything he's seeing.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean asks, seeing it right away.

"Gee, I don't know, Dean," Sam starts with an acidic edge. "This home is like a compound for some creepy, supernatural cult, complete with ancient demonic propaganda."

"What!?" Dean asks with shock, not getting what the hell Sam's talking about.

"You have a library of books all about ghosts and demons and who the hell knows what else from all over the world, you have some old, dark warehouse that you conduct fight club in," Sam rants, arm gesturing to their surroundings. "That super redneck looking 'firing range' out back? And the weapons arsenal hidden all around here, most of which I assume I haven't even seen yet… how am I not supposed to be freaked out here!?"

Dean opens his mouth to answer but he immediately shuts it, not knowing what to say. He never once looked at the home like that. He saw it as a home. From the jump it was warm and inviting and everything a home should be with just a few exceptions since the family living here conducts some pretty covert and super hero-like business.

"I get it," Lizzy says to Sam. He looks at her with shock at that. He didn't expect her to say anything like that. "And truthfully, when I got here… I felt that fear. I was alone, my whole family gone and nothing to show for it except a suddenly larger bank account when I liquidated every asset and fled… and it was frightening."

Sam turns completely to face her, his expression serious as he listens closely to her confessions.

"I got one look at where Bobby lives, the junk cars and horror movie looking property… I almost jumped back in my car and drove away as fast as I could." She huffs a laugh at the memory. "But before I could Karen came around the back of the house, her gardening gloves on with her straw hat, looking all Carol Brady… and I couldn't leave. I knew the cover of the book didn't represent the content on this one. Sam, these people are good people. They're amazing people. They help innocent lives every day and they accept everyone for who they are… even the future leaders of demonic armies."

Sam cracks a small smile at that. She's right. Maybe at first killing him was a preventative measure they all considered but now, from the second he said hello to the Singers, he's been like their family. They're warm, caring, and even if their surroundings are off putting they shine right through it.

"Just look at the inside of it. Not the out… or the fighting and weapons and pagan shit." Lizzy smiles hopefully at him.

"Alright. Fair enough. I think I just got caught up in the, uh, ambience of the place for a second there," Sam admits. "But you're right, Lizzy. They're good people."

"Damn straight," Dean confirms. "Now come on. Time to put that redneck firing range to good use." He winks.

"What… you mean me!?" Sam asks, pointing to himself with very wide eyes.

"Hell yeah, you," Dean answers, walking to the cooler and grabbing a couple rags from the nearby workbench. "I'm not sending you home without some knowledge on how to defend yourself."

"I don't even own a gun," Sam says.

"You're about to," Lizzy assures, taking a seat while holding her shoulder.

"What!?"

"I'm sending you home with a gun. Nothing too scary, just a simple sawed-off shotgun, nothing flashy or anything…."

"No!" Sam denies emphatically. "I'm not taking a gun from you!"

"Why not?" Dean wonders, scooping a hand full of ice into each of the three rags.

"_Why not_!?" Sam echoes. "Well, for starters, it's crazy illegal to have an unlicensed firearm!"

"You can just borrow the one we give you until you can get one on your own legally then," Lizzy suggests and Dean nods, agreeing.

"It's still illegal until I get a licensed one… and I don't want to get a licensed one either!" Sam shouts. "I'm not a gun owner. I'm not in some MC or a gang."

Lizzy's expression falls. "I have a gun. Several. Is that how you see me?"

It gets quiet. Sam doesn't really have a response for that other then, "No… not exactly…." He sounds very much like he's lying.

"Wow," Lizzy nods as she begins to realize what it is she appears to be to the rest of the world. "So, you see me as some strong arm thug. That's… damn." She huffs a disgusted laugh.

"You're not a thug…" Sam begins to backpedal but she jumps back in.

"You're damn right I'm not!" Lizzy gets very upset. "Just because I have a gun that may not be legal doesn't mean I'm some hitman or outlaw. I mean, yeah, I break a shit ton of laws but it's for a good cause. I save people's lives with my illegal firearms."

Sam looks to Dean but gets no help. In fact, Dean looks nearly as insulted as Lizzy is while he walks to her and gingerly places a makeshift icepack on her injured shoulder.

"Look… what you do is shady," Sam tries to dig himself out of this hole. "You can admit that, right?"

"Sure. Yeah," Lizzy agrees, her voice hard and arms crossed over her chest.

"So… fuck, I shouldn't have put it the way that I did," Sam cops to his mistake. "I'm sorry for that. It's just… I'm a law student. I'm trying to be a lawyer. If I get caught with an unlicensed firearm then my career is over before it starts."

Lizzy nods slowly as she presses another ice filled rag into her side as Dean holds one to the back of her head. "Ok. I can understand that. But you _will_ get a legal gun and keep it in your home. And I'm not talking locking it up in a safe and stashing the rounds in another room. This thing needs to be accessible and always loaded with salt rounds. Just in case. You have a price on your head Sam and I'm serious when I say this isn't about if the demons will come. It's when."

Sam takes a very deep breath. When. Shit. He must have been living in denial before now. When. It's getting real.

"We'll get to the whole informing you of everything part tonight," Dean says, reading the sudden fear on his brother. "For now, we go be outlaws and fire us some guns." His grin is wide and excited.

"They're not toys, Dean," Sam reminds.

"You won't be saying that after you pull that trigger for the first time," Dean smirks.

* * *

"Sam, it's all pretty big, I know."

He can hear Bobby's voice but it's somewhat distant, floating into his ears and dissipating before it has a chance to settle in. With everything laid out, the truth about Azazel, his plans, the other children already apparent but now compounded by the research Bobby's been able to dig up, Sam's not sure what to think. Or do. Or anything.

It's all too much.

"So… Azazel… you think he…." Sam pauses and laughs so drily it sounds painful. "He… infected me?"

"That's what the prophecy says," Bobby agrees, his voice as light as his gruffness will allow. "I ain't once heard of anything like this before but then again I ain't seen a book like this before. That thing is so old it should've disintegrated into dust by now."

"Uh, so… why hasn't it?" Sam asks, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he sits behind Bobby's desk, hunched over and fearful.

"Because that ain't paper. It's skin."

"Ugh," Sam pulls his hand on the book away and presses his back into his seat. "Please say it's cow or, like, cat or something."

"Human."

"Of course," Sam nods and swallows down his gag reflex. "Jesus."

"Yeah, that's not a name you're gonna find in there," Bobby laughs a bit.

"So… how do you even know what it says?" Sam questions, the chicken scratch illegible to him.

"Well, if ya know Latin you can read most things," Bobby says as he sits in a chair opposite the desk from Sam, relaxing into it with his glass of cheap whiskey.

"So, it's Latin?" Sam keeps asking, knowing what he's seeing isn't Latin. He in law. He knows enough Latin to get by.

"Nah. It's some ancient form of Zoroastrian," Bobby informs to young man, getting a completely confused look. "I was able to translate it from Zoroastrian to an ancient, primitive form of Latin and then I was able to bring it into the early AD form of Latin."

Sam blows out a hard breath of impression. "So, you're like the president of hunter-MENSA or something?"

Bobby actually grin with that one. "Or something. Smart ass."

Sam huffs a shocked laugh. With Bobby's joking around, he can feel a welcoming warmth grow within him. Too bad now isn't the time to delve deeper into that. "Huh… uh… so you're saying that, according to this, I have demon blood in me?"

Bobby looks down at the floor. "Yeah."

"And that's what's causing my psychic… whatever," Sam keeps the logic going.

"Seems like." Bobby leans forward and grabs the whiskey bottle on the desk, filling an empty glass and pushing it towards Sam. "You're one of the chosen few. Azazel likes you."

"Lucky me," Sam bitterly responds and grabs the glass, downing a sip.

"He's done this to a couple other generations before you, infecting children with his own blood, but he's never liked anyone enough to be the true leader. This book says that this generation is the prophesized one. It predicts the year and everything. And… they already know what their leader will be like."

"And?" Sam asks, eyes huge with fear to know.

"It's a lot like the Bible says about the Antichrist… 'course, I don't think you're the Antichrist. Just some kid that got unlucky somehow. Says the leader-to-be will be a charismatic and good looking yet highly intelligent man. They add in intimidating stature and presence also. Oh, and they know for sure he will have an older brother and a mother that would pass away on his six month birthday. There was a depiction of flames on that page."

"What!?" Sam fires out.

Bobby just nods in return. "Sound like any tall, smart, good looking kid with an unfortunate past you know?"

"Damn it," Sam sighs heavily, clearing his throat as he sits back in his seat with fright and bafflement. "What… I mean, what the fuck do I do with this information, Bobby?"

And when the young college kid looks up to Bobby with nothing but pleading and terror in his eyes, the tough guy melts for him. This poor boy has had the world just dropped on his head and there aren't any answers that Bobby can give as of right now. So, he scrambles.

"Well, first you're not gonna go telling that over-protective brother of yours about this."

"He doesn't know!?" Sam asks with shock.

"Not about the demon blood."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"Wanted to tell the kid that has the demon DNA in him first. Seemed only fair," Bobby shrugs.

Sam closes his eyes for a moment. "Shit, he's gonna flip…."

"He will, but not until you leave."

"We have to tell him, Bobby…."

"And I will," Bobby assures. "Once you're on your way home with as much info as I can stuff that backpack you came here with and you've spent some good, unburdened time with your brother… I'll find a minute to tell him."

Sam gets it right then. Bobby wants them to have a good, demon-free couple of days before Dean gets told the worst news he could be told.

"I appreciate that," Sam nods, face still solemn.

"Dean's a good kid," Bobby explains himself. "And I couldn't begin to tell you how damn excited he was to see you here. I just think, while you're still here, make it a good visit. He's missed you."

"You're right," Sam nods again. "Dean's always put me first, even once I was old enough that he could stop doing that. We've had it pretty rough and, I just… he's happy here, Bobby. You guys took him in and… and I've never seen him like this."

"Wish I could take the credit for that," Bobby gruffly laughs. "But haven't done anything special for him. That's all Lizzy."

"Yeah, uh… they seem… good," Sam says with a grin.

"It's annoying as all hell is what it is," Bobby tells him and sips his whiskey, Sam mirroring him. "At first I was worried about them."

"Why?" Sam's curiosity is peaked.

"Lizzy lets people in too easily, even if she acts like she don't. When she rolled up here one day with some Don Juan looking guy that she's giving the googly eyes to every chance she got? Well, I was a tad concerned."

"Understandable," Sam laughs lightly, relaxing into his chair. "At least the way you met Dean was better than the way I met Lizzy."

"How so?"

"Did Lizzy show up at your house to kill you in the middle of the night after having a one-nighter with your brother?" He laughs to himself and looks down at his glass. But he doesn't hear any laughter from Bobby. Instead it's silent. When he looks up, the face he catches is hard, angry. "Oh, uh…." And then he remembers what he said. One Nighter. "Shit. Um…."

"Sam, I'm gonna suggest something to you right now and I'm gonna hope you hear me loud and very clear."

"Yes, sir." He swallows hard, nervous with his slip up.

"Don't tell me anything about Lizzy and… the things she does when I'm not around," Bobby's stoned face tells him.

"Understood."

"It's bad enough her… _boyfriend_... is living under my roof and I feel like I have to watch them like a hawk every waking second. I don't want to know anything else."

With a deep breath, Sam sighs. "She really is like your daughter, huh?"

"I don't have any kids," Bobby fires out with acid.

"Oh, I know. I know," Sam says kindly, seeing he's pulled an unknown trigger. "But you care about Lizzy. And maybe I don't know a whole lot about her just yet, or you really, but she cares about you and Karen. You've saved her life, Bobby. You've taken her in. Don't be upset at that. It's really good of you guys."

Bobby's eyes dart around the room with discomfort. "She needed help. We gave it. That's what we do."

"Yeah…." Sam smirks at the lack of honest answer. Bobby hates compliments, clearly. "Well, I know you guys mean the world to her if that's worth anything."

And for once Bobby lets his mouth turn up a little. "It's worth something."

He sips his whiskey long and Sam gets that this part of the conversation is over.

"So what do I do now?" Sam asks him. "Demon blood and, and powers that could easily get scarier… what does this all mean?"

"Well, considering I've gotten to know you for a second, I know that you'll turn my offer down to move here."

"I have school," Sam answers very quickly.

"There are schools here."

"Not Stanford."

"Show off," Bobby name calls and Sam laughs. "I get it. You've worked your whole life for this and you can't just throw that away. But what's working your whole life for something worth if you're dead?"

The sobering thought landing hard into his brain, Sam breathes deeply. "I know, I know it's probably a really bad idea and I seem nuts for staying in school… but I have to. I have to. My whole life I said I wouldn't turn out like my family. Dad's a drunk that can barely hold a job and Dean? He's… he always works so hard for a shit paycheck that barely covers anything. I wanted to get out of that cycle, be successful… and for once have someone cover things for Dean. I owe him so much. I just… I want to pay him back for it all."

"He'd never ask that of you," Bobby's sure.

"I know that. I don't expect him to ever ask for anything… and if I try to give him anything I know it'll be a fight. But I'll take that fight."

"You're a real good egg, Sam," Bobby tells him, seeing it all now. Sam just smiles a little in return. "Even if you're stubborn as a mule."

"Yeah, not the first time I've heard that," Sam knowingly returns.

"But I'm not exactly thrilled about you being out in California by yourself with all this stuff we know."

"Me neither but what can I do?"

"Stay safe until I can get Dean back out your way," Bobby answers. "That's the plan in the long run after all."

"Getting Dean back home is the plan?" Sam asks, not having been aware.

"Yeah. He'll spend time here training. And then he'll go out with Lizzy, hunting and getting real experience. And once he's good, ready for whatever… he'll be back in the California sun working on his tan."

"Oh," Sam says, accepting that as the answer. "So he'd… what? Move back home, get a job, and play lookout every second of every day?"

"Pretty much," Bobby answers easily.

"Huh," Sam sounds quietly, sipping his drink and peering off into the distance while thinking the idea through.

"I'm sensing you ain't exactly liking this plan, Sam," Bobby lets him know he's caught on.

"I guess I never really pictured Dean coming back home," Sam admits. "I just figured this was it, a new life and a new purpose."

"The reason he's doing all this is to be ready to help you."

"I get that, I do… but Dean's not happy in that life. Sure, he likes working with cars and he had friends and would go out and have fun, but… he's honestly happy here." Sam shakes his head with surprise. "He really likes you and Karen. He likes being here. He likes…."

"Lizzy," Bobby finishes off the train of thought for him.

"Yeah," he confirms. "They, uh… they're good. They make sense."

"Sadly," Bobby grumps back.

"Dean's a good guy. Trust me when I say you don't have to worry about him. She's lucky he even likes her."

"Don't you mean he's lucky _she_ likes _him_?" Bobby counters.

"Both," Sam laughs lightly. "I like Dean when he's around her. And I don't want to be the reason why he's away from her."

"How do you mean?"

"If Dean moves home then they won't be together all that much. That would suck."

"That's true," Bobby agrees and gets crafty. "Unless, of course, he moves back west and _doesn't_ have to be away from Lizzy."

Narrowed eyes on Bobby, Sam wonders, "How's that?"

Bobby looks around, making sure the two people he's talking about are still out of ear shot. He then leans forward on the desk with his elbows, hands folded. "Lizzy ain't meant for this world of mine, not for long. She's had her fill if you ask me and the emotional toll of it ain't good for her. Now, I ain't saying I like how fast it happened or that I encourage it all that much… but this could be her way out."

"So, you're saying, that if Dean comes back to Stanford…."

"He brings Lizzy with him. They live domestic while keeping an eye out for you. Considering who Liz is, this is the perfect compromise and one of the few chances I can see ever working for her."

Sam smiles slowly, the idea settling comfortably in his head. Having Dean back home again, working and spending weekends hanging out, all the while Lizzy's there keeping him in line and happy. They'd have dinner together, work like normal people, maybe even get married and have a family if this all works out. He knows deep down Dean wants that. He wants a family of his own and a chance to do the whole family-unit-thing the right way. He wants his second chance.

"What did they say about this idea?" Sam questions.

"I haven't talked to them about this yet," Bobby admits. "Figured I'd wait a bit, plant the idea in their heads, keep mentioning it casually… maybe get some help from the little brother that agrees with me when Dean calls home one day and bounces the idea around?" He cocks an eyebrow in question.

Sam puts up a hand in promise. "I'm totally on your side."

"Good to know," Bobby nods while smiling, happy to hear the boy is as smart as he seems. "So, you got any questions about all this?" He nods to the littered desk, the research on Sam and all he's involved in spread out everywhere.

"I have one of the most ancient demons in existence eyeing me for leadership and he's shoved me full of demonic blood that gives me freaky ESP-ish visions with the potential to grow into something quite scary. And he's done the same to many others. And… I'm pretty fucked."

"You ain't fucked," Bobby counters but Sam gives him a knowing look. "Alright, you ain't _not_ fucked but you got a pretty decent, loyal team on your side."

"Yeah, Dean's pretty damn determined sometimes." Sam smiles.

"I wasn't just talking about Dean," Bobby informs him, getting a somewhat surprised look from Sam. "You got me and Karen. And you got Lizzy. It ain't just you two knuckleheads on your own, not anymore."

Sam accepts this while enjoying the feeling of being accepted. It's a good experience, the warmth deep inside his chest. He has a family and he didn't even know it. He never saw this coming for his brother and him.

Raising his glass of whiskey, Sam holds it out to Bobby. Bobby clinks his quietly with Sam's and they down their liquor completely.

"Ugh," Sam complains about the large amount of booze, the overwhelming burn getting to him.

"Suck it up," Bobby scolds lightly as he unscrews the cap of the cheap whiskey bottle, pouring more into the young man's glass. "You're gonna need a lot more than that to handle being the next demon leader."

* * *

"Bullshit!" Dean yells from one end of the old, flower-print couch. "How can you say that about a living legend?!"

"I'm not saying he isn't great at what he does, Dean," Sam counters, looking over at Dean once he pauses the opening credits of the movie. "I'm just saying that no one will ever compete with Bruce Lee."

"Jackie Chan did Drunken Master!" Dean fires out, getting loud and irate awfully quickly. He pokes the toes of his sock-covered foot into Sam's side hard.

"And then did The Karate Kid reboot… with Kung Fu!" Sam yells right back, swatting his leg. "They didn't even do _karate _in The Karate Kid reboot!"

"He didn't write the damned script, Sam!"

"He still went and did the movie."

"So what!? You don't think Bruce Lee would have done a couple softballs here and there if he'd lived long enough to get older and get offered crap for cash?"

"No! He had integrity!"

"They all have integrity when they start!" Dean scoffs. "And then they get old and want to get a damn paycheck without the pain. That's completely respectable!"

"Working with Will Smith's son isn't respectable!"

"Bite your tongue! The Fresh Prince is a national treasure!"

"His son is an over-privileged brat!"

"Whoa!" Lizzy's voice cuts through what seems like a big argument to an outsider when she walks into the room with a bowl of popcorn and three bottles of beer. "What is going on here? Why are you fighting?"

"Fighting?" Sam asks, wrinkled expression on as asks her with total surprise.

"We're debating," Dean tells her flatly, completely serious. To the Winchester brothers this was not an argument.

"Sounds like fighting," Lizzy rebuts and plops down in front of Dean on the floor, her back leaning against the foot of the couch and his legs to either side of her. She hands out beers to everyone.

"Nope, this is how we discuss things," Dean corrects, leaning forward and kissing her cheek before grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in her lap.

"That loudly?" she laughs and steals a quick kiss on the lips before he sits back.

"Dad was never awake to hear the shouting so I guess we were never learned to quiet down," Sam shrugs.

"Heavy sleeper?" she questions, holding to bowl out in offer.

"Black out drunk most nights," Sam corrects, taking some popcorn.

"Oh… shit," Lizzy says apologetically. "Sorry."

"Eh, he's an alcoholic. Nothing you can do about it," Dean explains, leaning back into the corner of the couch.

"You wanna sit on the couch?" Sam asks Lizzy, offering his seat to her.

She looks at him with a smile. "That's sweet of you." He shrugs and starts to get up. "But it's cool. You keep it."

"You ran five miles before getting your ass kicked by a guy three times your size… and all after having your shoulder dislocated days ago." Sam reaches down to her good arm and grabs her hand. "I can hack a little numb ass on the floor if you get to sit comfortably. Come on."

Smiling sweetly, Lizzy let him help her up. "Thank you, Sam."

"No problem," he answers, dropping to the floor without thought as Lizzy gets on the couch. Before she can settle fully, Dean links an arm around her waist and pulls her into him. She sits with her back leaning into his front and between his outstretched legs. They easily settle there, Dean's arm never leaving her middle.

"So what's the debate?" she asks, bowl in her lap and a couple kernels popped into her mouth.

"Best action flick actor ever," Dean answers, stealing some popcorn for himself. "We don't agree when the answer is obviously…."

"Bruce Willis, mm," Lizzy answers for him, humming with desire when she thinks about the actor.

"What!?" Dean gets upset all over again. "Fucking Bruce Willis!?"

"Damn straight, fucking Bruce Willis!" Lizzy answers without second thought. "That man was the tits… still is!"

"He's old," Dean counters.

"He's still hot," she slickly rebuts him.

And he gets it. Dean looks at the side of her face from sitting behind her. "You'd bang him, wouldn't you?"

"I would bang John McClane so fucking hard on the roof of Nakatomi Plaza, bloody feet, dirty wife-beater and all…."

"No, no, no," Dean denies her. "I'm talking McClane with a full grown son running around Chernobyl like it ain't radioactive. I'm talking Willis right now, wrinkles and working with Helen Miren."

"Fuck yeah I would," she answers with total conviction. "In a heartbeat."

"Why?" Sam laughs out, grabbing some popcorn.

"Because he's hot!" Lizzy answers quickly. "And that's the thing about men. I love older men. Women age like shit, getting bad wrinkles that make them lose their appeal and everything starts sagging… but men, no, they age like fine wine. Wrinkles give them character, wisdom gives them depth and skill… and men just get better."

"So you're saying that when I get older you'll think I'm hotter?" Dean summarizes.

Lizzy tilts her head up and surveys his face. "You're gonna be stupid hot in, like, ten more years. Like Harrison Ford."

"Nice," Dean smirks with pride.

"Just don't pierce you're ear, ok?" Lizzy tacks on, eating more popcorn. "So fucking lame."

"Ok, but the question wasn't what action star would you bang," Sam starts to explain. "It's all around best action star from a movie watching perspective only."

"Hm, ok..." Lizzy thinks hard. "Well, I'm a little torn. I mean, on the one hand there's still Bruce Willis. He's a total bad ass and, like I said, there's not much more badass than McClane taking down an entire pack of terrorists to save the love of his life in the best Christmas movie ever made."

"A Christmas Story," Sam corrects.

"Bad Santa," Dean shares his personal answer.

"A debate for another time," Lizzy brushes off. "But then there's… Jason Statham is a fucking BAD… ASS…."

"This isn't people you want to fuck," Dean reminds, seeing her brain get off topic.

"I know, I know… fine," Lizzy complains, knowing she's caught. "If I had to pick one action star… Dwayne Johnson."

"What!?" Sam laughs loudly.

"I'm serious."

"How can he be your pick!?" Sam shocks out.

"Think about it!" Lizzy asks of them, sitting up tall and switching her focus back and forth between them. "The days of Stallone and Schwarzenegger are over. They're retiring and doing we're-old-fucks-looking-for-a-quick-payday flicks. The Rock is the future of solid actions movies. Maybe the Scorpion King never got its due but fuck that. Have you seen Pain and Gain? Or The Rundown?"

"Have you seen The Toothfairy?" Dean rebuts.

"Wait… have you?" she turns it around, eyes wide on him.

"Does it look like I have kids?" Dean punches out.

"I don't know where that dick has been… I mean, I know a couple places," she smirks.

"Ok, ok," Sam complains. "I didn't drive halfway across the country to hear that."

Lizzy rolls her eyes. "Alright bitches, you don't like my visionary idea of best action star then what are your picks?"

"Bruce Lee," Sam answer with conviction.

"Jackie Chan," Dean says with even more confidence.

"Shit, an Asian face-off," she nods. "Didn't know we were going international with our picks."

"Racist," Dean jokes and pushes her a little. "And I'm right."

"It's opinion, man," Sam exasperates.

"Drunken Master always wins!"

"Enter the Dragon, bitch!" Sam gets pissed.

"The Police Story series!"

"Fist of Fury!"

"Oh shit!" Lizzy points at Sam. "Dean, he's got you there. That movie fucking rocks."

"You saw Fist of Fury?" Dean calmly questions.

"What do you take me for?" she gets upset that he'd think she didn't see it. "And Drunken Master was the tits but sorry, man. Fist wins. _Amazing_ movie. Hands down."

"Thank you," Sam says to her.

"Welcome," she nods and high fives him.

Dean just stares at the woman, jaw slightly agape as he processes this.

"What, Dean?" she asks with impatience.

"Nothing, I just…." He blows out a hard breath. "I fucking love you."

She laughs hard at that, knowing his pride in her is on high. "Yeah, I know." She leans in and kisses him.

"So I win, right?" Sam declares. "Two votes to one. Lee wins."

"I thought this was _just about opinion_," Dean reminds him, mocking Sam's voice.

"It was… until Lizzy agreed with me," he grins like a Cheshire Cat.

"Fuck that," Dean answers with when he knows he's out of contention.

"Nice," Sam says and holds a hand out to his side, Lizzy slapping him five from behind again when she sees it. "I thank you for your vote."

"You're very welcome."

"This blows," Dean bitches and picks up the remote, pressing play on the paused movie.

"What'd we end up with?" Lizzy wonders as the opening credits roll.

"The Rock," Dean answers, eyes glued to the screen.

"Oh yes!" Lizzy gets all excited. "It's been _so_ long."

"You like this one too?" Dean disbelieves, her personality so akin to his.

"Dude!" she looks at him like he's nuts. "I have lived by 'Winners go home and fuck the prom queen' my whole life. It's my personal motto."

Dean sighs, his face softening while staring at her. "Marry me."

"In your dreams," she jokes and settles in for a nice movie night.

* * *

"You got everything you need?" Dean asks for the tenth time that day as Sam packs the newly refurbished 1964 Mustang with everything he brought for his visit, all the gathered information and invaluable books Bobby was willing to part with for the time being, and a few weapons and defensive items to keep Sam safe on his own for now.

"How many times you gonna ask me that?" Sam wonders with slight upset while he peeks at Dean out of the corner of his eyes as he shuts the trunk.

"As many times as it takes for me to feel comfortable with you going back to living alone," Dean answers easily, not ashamed of his overprotectiveness and mothering.

"Dude, I'll be fine," Sam promises. "I have wards and sigils and spells… and _salt_." He laughs a little at the ridiculousness of that last one. Salt? A deterrent? Really?

"Hey, it works," Dean laughs back a little.

"You're the expert," Sam smirks with a shrug.

"I just wanna make sure you're ok, Sammy. The world's pretty scary these days and I'm not there to help."

"You're helping enough," Sam promises.

"Yeah… maybe…." Dean doesn't believe it. No matter what he does it'll never seem like it's enough but that's just who he is.

"Dean?" Sam says his brother's name and gets his eyes on him. "You're doing a really good thing. I'll take care of myself until you're trained up and everything. After that… then you can get back to nagging me back at home." He rolls his eyes with the thought.

Dean just wrinkles his forehead. "Back home?"

"Yeah. Home," Sam says, remembering Bobby's conversation with him. "I mean, you're coming back to California once you're all trained up and real-world-experienced, aren't you?"

Dean just looks at his brother and blinks once. Home. Coming home. He hadn't thought that far. He's been so focused on hunting and getting ready and being a bad ass and finding time with Lizzy that he never planned long term.

And what is home for him these days? It used to be the house he, Sammy, and John cohabitated in. It wasn't a home kind of home, one with warmth and welcoming, more of just a house, but maybe wherever Sam is would be his home. But without Lizzy there maybe it wouldn't be home. She feels like home these days….

"I guess I hadn't really thought about it," Dean admits after a moment. "But yeah, I mean… that was the point. To help keep you outta trouble."

"Exactly," Sam smiles a little. "So, when you're done killing vamps and boogeymen, you and Lizzy can come to Stanford. We'll make room at my apartment until you guy find your own place."

"Me and Liz?" Dean scoffs. "You think she's coming with me?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know… I just can't see her getting off the road and sticking to one place." His forehead wrinkles with the idea.

"Even if you do?" Sam wonders, pushing the idea just slightly. "You wouldn't have to totally quit hunting. I bet shit goes down on the west coast all the time."

"Probably," Dean nods slightly.

"You guys could find a place, get some jobs, live like us normal people and hunt on your days off." He shrugs and tries to act like he just thought up the idea himself.

"Huh…" Dean hums, eyes on the ground while mulling it over before popping back onto Sam. "It's something to think about."

"And I'll make room for you guys any day," Sam promises.

"Alright kid, you better get going," Dean tells him. "You're burning daylight."

Dean reaches out and pulls his little brother into a tight hug. They aren't sure when they'll see each other again which is a weird feeling.

"You stay outta trouble, you hear?" Dean tells him, giving him a couple thumps on the back.

"I'll say the same for you," Sam laughs a little as he ends the hug and ducks into the Mustang. It's a little cramped and he'd prefer the Impala but he knows what that car means to Dean. This will have to do.

"Later, Sammy," Dean says as the engine starts up. Sam gives him a smile as he pulls out of the gravel driveway and heads out for his apartment back in Stanford. Dean watches the entire way until the car pulls out onto the road and disappears from view. He sighs with a heavy heart, always worried when Sam isn't in eyesight or close proximity. Further than the same city is too far for him with all the crap hanging over his head.

"Dean!" Bobby calls out from the side door of the house. Dean turns to see him peeking his head out. "You got a minute?"

"Yeah," Dean nods, walking for the house as he's happy to find a distraction. "What's going on?'

"I just wanted to talk through some stuff I found," the older man mentions vaguely.

"About?"

"Just some stuff Sam and I went over before he left," Bobby tells him, nervous already for this talk. "I told him I'd fill you in after you two had some quality time together."

"Uh, alright," Dean wrinkles his expression. "This doesn't sound great."

"When is it ever great?" Bobby warns as he shuts the door behind them both.

* * *

**AN: ****Anyone catch the It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia reference!? Love that show. Go watch it!**


	48. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 11)

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

**Four Months Later**

"Holy shit," Dean amazes as he looks around the littered floor of the warehouse. Nine bodies are strewn about, unmoving and headless, as pools of fresh red continue to grow larger by the second underneath them. He wipes his forehead with his jacket-covered forearm, never dropping his bloodied machete in his grip.

"You said it," Lizzy huffs with a smile. "Nine has to be a new record."

"Really?" Dean asks with surprise.

"Yeah… for me, at least. Garth and I never did this badass a job before," Lizzy nods, looking around. Her face drops with her newest thought. "Ah, damn it. This is gonna be a bitch to clean up. And I'm kicked after that." She leans down and wipes her blade on one of the vamp's jeans before holstering it again. They're both exhausted after the struggles against roughly double the amount of vampires than they expected.

"Crap," Dean complains, looking around. The cleanup would take hours. Hauling all the bodies out back and burning them before burying them followed by some severe blood clean up? Fuck that. "You know, I got a half-full gas can in the trunk of the car."

"I have a full lighter," Lizzy smirks and pulls out her Zippos, the metal clinging as she flicks it open.

"Stay here," Dean nods and keeps his machete in hand as he jogs out to the Impala parked out front.

"Will do," she grins back, watching him jog with a full heart. Once he's outside she surveys their work. They were an unstoppable force together. Over two months back she started taking him on the road as her partner. He was more than ready and Garth was looking more and more comfortable just staying at his 'special lady friend's' house and keeping to low grade solo hunts. Ever since it's been smooth sailing, their compatibility reaching beyond just their relationship with one another. The entire hunting community was hearing about the lovebirds that have been absolutely bulldozing the supernatural.

She couldn't be more proud.

"Miss me?" she hears him yell to her as he jogs back in, clothing blood spattered but a smile on his face. The gas in the plastic red container sloshes as he holds it up.

"It was five seconds," she smirks.

"Yeah… five seconds without me," he jokes and spins the cap off the can. He then starts dumping the gasoline over the unmoving bodies of the now dead nest.

"I survived," she rolls her eyes as she looks around, seeing a few weapons about that the nest was hoarding that could make a nice addition to her arsenal. She starts rummaging, picking up another machete, an old Colt revolver that looks antique enough to be worth a ton of cash, a police issue Glock she's assuming was swiped from the local officer that was found dead and drained, and a few long blade knives. When done she looks over at him with full hands. "You almost ready?"

He finishes the trail of gas leading out the door and looks over to her. "Why Missus Winchester, where is your patience?"

She blinks twice. "You can call me Lizzy. That part never changed."

"I know. But doesn't Missus Winchester have a better ring to it?" He grins wide and she melts into a puddle of girly mush once more over him.

"It's alright," she says flippantly as she walks for the door with him.

"Please, you love it."

"It's alright," she repeats.

"You wouldn't have changed it after Vegas if you didn't like it," Dean points out as he waits for her.

She stands next to him and lights the lighter. She pauses for a second and he gets to observe her face in the soft glow of the flame. She's stunning, even now with a smudge of blood on her cheek (thankfully, not near her mouth) and her hair everywhere. Even sweaty after a hunt she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Damn was he lucky she said yes while hammered a few weeks back.

"Whatever," she grins out and touches the flame to the gas trail. It lights up and they move out of the house towards the car.

"I wish I had some badass sunglasses or something," Dean complains, empty gas can in his grip and machete in the other.

"Why?"

"Dude, walking away from a burning building while putting on sunglasses and never looking back!?" Dean answers with his movie cliché wishes. "What's more badass than that?"

"Doing it in slow-mo," Lizzy tells him and his eyes light up as he snaps his fingers.

"You totally get me," he tells her and kisses her quickly once.

"Ok, it's shower time," Lizzy tells him as he unlocks the trunk. They drop everything in. "And then I'm gonna sleep for a week."

* * *

"Ah, home crappy home," Lizzy announces when she opens the motel door. Dropping everything on the floor by the door she walks right for the one bed in the room and drops onto it hard face down. She doesn't move as she lets out a massive groan of relief.

And Dean laughs at her, dropping the rest of their things as he locks the door and starts to line the doorway with salt. "You gonna make it?"

"No," she says into the comforter, voice muffled.

"Please don't die on me," Dean says lightly. "At least not until I get into those tight ass jeans one more time."

She laughs at him and rolls onto her side to look at him while he protects the room. "I think these jeans have seen their last day." She gestures to the crimson covering them.

"You should take them off then."

"As I go and take the first shower, I'll do just that," Lizzy answers, groaning in pain this time as she gets up.

"You alright?" Dean asks with sheer concern, knowing she's hidden injuries before.

"Just my back. I'll live," she answers, walking into the bathroom without closing the door, reaching into the tub and turning on the shower.

"I'll rub you down later," Dean tells her, finishing up salting the windows and doors and he says it without sexual innuendo this time. He just wants to help her.

"You offered so you have to now," she answers lightly as she gingerly lifts her long sleeved, black t-shirt overhead.

Salt canister still in his hands, Dean pauses when done. He catches the sight of her undressing in the open bathroom doorway and stands upright. His face lightens when he views it all, the way she kicks her boots off smoothly and lowers her tight jeans inch by inch with the ache in her back. Even in pain and exhausted, disheveled to a terrible point… he's out of air in his lungs every time he gets to see her like this. And to think she said yes. To think she carries his name with her now and she wanted nothing but to be with him… that's true good luck.

And totally worth the chewing out by Bobby once he heard they eloped in Las Vegas.

"You sure you're alright?" Dean asks again, just needing to make sure.

"Nothing a little hot water can't ease," she promises him, looking at him as she unhooks and drops her bra.

Dean licks his lips without knowing it when he sees more of her. "My God, you're beautiful."

She smiles at him, giddy and just so damn in love with him it's crazy. "I like to think red compliments my skin." She lowers her black panties without shame, more than comfortable with him.

But Dean doesn't laugh. The blood doesn't matter. He sees just her. "I mean it. You're beautiful. I just… ha." They lock eyes hard. "I'm so happy I found you."

He knows he isn't seeing things when the light reflects a little shinier in her eyes with his words.

Lizzy just smiles harder, looking away as she wipes her eyes before the tears that collected could fall. "Why do you always have to do that?" she asks with light, embarrassed laugh, appreciating his kindness but never sure what to do with it.

"I love you," Dean tells her in answer, as if it was obvious all along.

"Yeah, I love you too," Lizzy returns with affection. "Now finish up and rinse off. I can't fuck you when you have blood all over you."

She walks into the shower and he can't see her anymore. That isn't going to stand.

Quickly he tosses his clothes off and runs into the bathroom. By the time he's joined her it's a familiar scene. Lizzy's facing away with shampoo in her hair. This time he stays still and quiet until she's done rinsing it out. The moment she turns around he's right up against her, mouth on hers and kissing her with absolute need.

"Mm, Dean…." He cuts her off with another kiss. "Wait a minute."

"Can't"

"You can," she tells him, pressing a hand over his lips to stop him. "You get any vamp blood in your or my mouth, this whole corny love story shit ends right here."

"Crap, right," Dean nods, getting business like immediately. He grabs some soap and gets to work, washing off every trace with concern. He'd never put her in harm's way.

Once they're both looking better, Lizzy looks at him with a grin. "Meet me on the bed?"

She opens the shower curtain and dries off as Dean shuts the water off. Eyes never leaving her, he get nominally dry before following her into the main room of their cheap lodgings.

"Come here," Lizzy asks of him as she sits at the edge of their bed for the night, leaning back on her hands flat on the comforter and her knees parting slowly.

Swallowing hard when his mouth waters with the look of her, Dean's walking for her without even knowing it. The second he reaches her he's leaned over and his hands are on her jaw, pulling her into a deep kiss that's all need and pure feeling.

Moving her back as he kneels onto the mattress, Lizzy scoots quickly before pulling him down onto her. Lips to lips, skin to skin, every long and terrible day of hunting and death and trying frustration is completely worth it when this exists.

"Oh my _God_!" Lizzy exaggerates with her head thrown back as she sits back on his chest. Dean just laughs at her while dragging his fingertips up and down her thighs as she comes down. "That was a good one."

"Was it?" he jokes right back, know already.

"Shut up," she laughs, her hand cupping his face as she looks so lovingly down at him. She runs the pad of her thumb across his full, wet bottom lip. "God damn, you make me feel good."

"It's literally my job to nowadays," Dean grins back up at her, playfully licking her thumb before she takes it away.

"So now I gotta ask…" she starts. "After such a damn good job, how do you want me, Dean? You've earned the privilege to choose."

What does he want? When his hands land on the curve of her ass once more he knows exactly what he wants. He's creative, or he likes to think so.

"Get up," he quickly tells her, pushing her hips up and off of him. When she moves, rolling to the side of him and watching him get out of their bed, she smiles while observing him walk to his duffle bag and rifle through it on the floor.

He still has that healing gash on the left side of his back. It's only about three inches long, not terribly deep, but it'll leave a scar. His first hunting scar. Dean would never say it aloud but he wears it with total pride. She just thinks he looks sexy for it.

"Shit," Dean suddenly complains, standing up from the floor empty handed. He turns to her with a disappointed face. "Looks like I'm not getting you at all."

"What?" she asks, voice upset right away with the idea of no sex after how ready to go she is. "Why not?"

"I may have forgotten that we used the last condom," he says, making a face that shows his own disappointment.

"Noooo!" Lizzy cries out exaggeratedly. She flops onto her back. "So horny!"

"Ugh," Dean groans with her reaction, her form fully on display. "Not helping!"

Sighing with hands on his hips, the idea of not actually getting to fuck her after that offer she just gave, Dean's hurting with letdown.

"Let's just do it anyways," Lizzy suggests to him. "It's fine…."

"You're fucking evil for that suggestion, you know that?"

"I'll get the morning after pill before we head to Bobby's," she says to him. "No worries. We'll be in the clear."

Dean thinks about it for all of two seconds before nodding. "As long as we head to a drug store in the morning…."

"We'll be fine," Lizzy says, her eyebrow arched as she waits for him to be all in.

He doesn't love it but what he hates more is not getting to have her right now. Desire is a bitch of a thing.

* * *

"Oh my God, that's fucking amazing," Lizzy says with total relief and contentment as she lays on her stomach on top of the bed. Dean's hands kneed into her lower back as he straddles her thighs, hands working out the pain and tightness just like he promised.

"Better?" he asks, hands starting to cramp up after the day they've had paired with the massage.

"I haven't felt this good in… shit, ever." She laughs at the sad fact, cheek pressed to her folded hands under her head.

"Well, that's just… sad," Dean tells her, leaning down to press a single kiss to her upper back. "And that changes starting now."

Dean gets off of her as he finishes up, lounging back on the mattress next to her.

"What do you mean?"

"It means we're married now. To me," Dean says with obviousness. "I'm not gonna let you feel anything less than good from now on."

"Good luck with that," she laughs, rolling to her side and propping her head up with an elbow. "But I appreciate that you give a shit."

"I give more than a shit," Dean laughs a little and his sentence is punctuated with his growling stomach loudly making itself known.

"Damn!" Lizzy laughs at him with rubbing his stomach. "Hungry?"

"A little," he says guiltily.

"When was the last time we even ate?"

"Uh… I think breakfast?"

"That's not good. Well, let me repay you the favor," she says and gets off the bed, walking to her bag. She starts pulling out clothing. "What are you feeling? There's a diner down the street."

"Mm, I'm feeling cheeseburger-y," Dean tells her, his mouth watering with the thought. "And bacon-y."

"Bacon cheeseburger. Got it," she smiles, pulling on a t-shirt and old jeans. "You relax and I'll go get that."

"Awesome," Dean says to her with excitement.

"Here," she tosses him the remote from the small table in the room and it lands on his chest. "No porn, huh? We're running low on funds."

"Aw, you're no fun," Dean complains jokingly as he turns on the TV.

"I think the past few hours proves otherwise," she winks at him and grabs the keys to the Impala. "I'm a blast, baby."

"Yes you are," Dean slickly answers, his eyes giving her _that look_.

Unable to help herself, Lizzy walks right for him. She leans over his laid out form and plants a serious, still wanting kiss on his lips, the heat never fully extinguished even after they've been going at each other like starved animals. She takes her time, connects deeply with him as this is everything she's currently living for.

Ending the kiss, Lizzy playfully gives him a couple small, harmless slaps on the cheek. "Sit tight. And don't answer the door for strangers, huh?"

"You're weird," Dean tells her, looking to the television and flipping channels.

"Shut up," she smiles and heads for the door.

When she's gone Dean pops on Sports Center to catch up and grabs a pair of boxer briefs and a black t-shirt. With that on he once more sits back on the bed, ready to chill out and stay awake long enough for Lizzy to arrive with his very late dinner.

He closes his eyes, losing the fight with sleep. The hunt, the killing four vamps on his own, and the sex… he's tired as hell. His mind starts to drift off, dreams edging into his consciousness, when he hears a knock on the door.

Lids flying open, Dean's highly alert now. He sits up sharply and looks at the door. He knows he heard it. It woke him completely.

Standing up, Dean walks slowly and silently to the door. Once there, not a sound made, he leans into the peephole and takes a look.

There's a skinny man, pale with a black leather jacket, standing on the other side of the door. He looks side to side, clearly making sure the coast is clear, and a rock of dread forms in the pit of Dean's stomach. Something is wrong here and something is about to happen.

Before he can even move a muscle the man shoulders into the door with brute force that shouldn't be able to come from a man his size. The door flies open hard and it shoves Dean back a few feet, falling into the edge of the bed.

From sitting on his ass on the floor he watches the man walk into the room with fire in his eyes, focus on Dean.

"Knew you were in here," he says angrily, fists balled up. "Could smell your stink for miles."

Shit. A vampire. Dean's head swims with options. His weapons bag is by the door but the vampire is blocking his path to it. But he has a gun on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. He can slow him down with it and maybe distract him enough to reach the bag….

"You killed them all," the vampire accuses as Dean stands up, is hands out palms first in surrender. "Every one of them."

"I was just doing my job," Dean excuses, walking slowly to the side and around the bed.

"It's not your job to kill innocent people!" the vampire shouts, kicking the door shut behind him before advancing on Dean.

Knowing he doesn't have much time left with the anger the vampire holds, Dean scrambles for the gun. He gets it in hand, aims it, safety off.

"You think that'll do anything to me!?"

"It'll slow you down," Dean confidently answers.

"And there you go again… all shoot first, ask questions later," the vampire scoffs with pure disgust. "Did you even look into the people you killed back there? Or did you just see fangs?"

"People don't have fangs," Dean counters. "You're not people. You _used_ to be people."

"We weren't hurting anyone!" he shouts, another step forward. "We fed on animals, just like you!"

Dean stays quiet for that one. He had no idea. The two of them were simply tipped off about a nest that needed taking care of. They weren't told they weren't going after people. He doesn't know how to respond.

"Nothing to say to that?" the vampire asks, full fire still aimed Dean's way. "No remorse?"

"I didn't know," Dean admits.

"Clearly!" the vampire responds, another step taken.

"Back off, man," Dean tells him, cocking his Colt.

"And now my family is gone," the creature keeps talking, one more step closer and it's too much for Dean.

Three quick shots fires, all three hitting the vampire in the chest as Dean takes off, diving across the bed to the open weapons bag. He's tackled from behind before he can reach the machete he's aiming for.

Climbing atop him, the vampire grabs Dean's head and slams it into the ground three times swiftly before Dean's can throw a single defensive punch. He's quick and the five month hunter-in-the-making is good but he isn't _that_ good.

Dazed, Dean's vision wavers. He blinks a few times and tries all he can to clear his head enough to be coherent and fight back. As he tries, his hands reaching out and landing on the leather of the vampire's jacket, he can't manage even a loose grip on him.

While struggling, Dean feels a wet substance wiped across his mouth. The coppery taste hits his tongue and he swallows hard out of instinct. Shaking his head he starts to come back, not sure what's happening.

"You made me have to do this," the vampire explains. "You took my family… so now I need to make a new one."

Reaching up above his head as the vamp speaks, Dean's hand lands inside the duffle. He easily recognizes the handle of a machete when he feels it. Gripping hard, he takes a mighty swing, severing the vampire's head in one hard swoop. His head bounces once when it hits the dull carpet of the motel room, the body slumping over Dean.

Shoving the heavy weight to the side, Dean gets onto his feet and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. When he pulls it away he's shocked to see the red smear across his fingers. Blood? He didn't get hit in the mouth. Why would he be bleeding from his mouth?

And then the sounds come at him hard. The ticking of the retro looking clock on the wall echoes through his head as he can hear the quiet conversation of prices for services being exchanged in the room next door. When a car drives by the engine is so loud he winces.

And the lamp. The light from the mere sixty-watt bulb is killing his eyes all of a sudden, causing a headache as he tries to blink and adjust.

What the hell is going on?

Dropping his machete on the ground, Dean walks for the bathroom. He flips the switch and the vanity light turns on, searing his eyes. After a moment of rubbing them, Dean takes a look at himself in the mirror. His lips and cheek are smudged in red blood. He has no injuries, not a split lip to be seen, and it all starts to crash down on him.

Peeking out at the unmoving body on the floor, Dean can see the ripped open inner wrist of the headless vampire. He didn't do that to him. The vampire did it to himself… with his own teeth.

Looking back at his reflection, dread slapping him hard, he gets it.

"Shit," Dean whispers with utter fear, face paling at the thought of what is happening to him.

* * *

Parking the Impala very carefully, Lizzy gets out of the boat of a car with keys and takeout bag in hand.

"Fucking stupid car," she rolls her eyes, hating the thing. She never understood the car love Dean and Bobby have and when they started taking his 'beauty' out on the road she wasn't happy. They stop for gas constantly and the thing is impossible to maneuver. It's freaking huge.

But she lets it go. That car means the world to Dean and she'd never let him hear her complain about it. Plus, the trunk space is awesome, especially with the newly modified false bottom. Totally killer.

Making her way to the door of their room she smiles without knowing she's doing it. She's just happy to be back and even happier to see Dean again. She's addicted. She just loves him so much and that puppy love thing is still there. She's fairly sure it won't be gone for a very long time.

However, her lovey moment shatters when she sees the splintered wood on the doorframe of their room. It's mostly by the lock and doorknob. She knows what that means. Someone broke in.

Dropping the bag at her feet, Lizzy pulls her gun from her back and aims it with two hands. Deep breath, she opens the unlocked door.

The entire room is dark but she can't miss the lump of a body in the middle of the carpet… headless. The pool of blood seeping into the carpet is sticky. She just missed whatever happened when she left but whatever it was, it was a struggle. And deadly at that.

Reaching for the light switch by the door, a voice stops her.

"Don't."

Her head snaps around to the far corner of the room. Sitting there on the floor, knees drawn up and head hanging down is Dean.

"Shit," Lizzy punches out and puts her gun away, knowing all threats must be gone if he's sitting so calmly. She quickly shuts the door and rushes over to him, kneeling in front of him immediately. She reaches out to him.

"Don't touch me." He shies away from her hands.

"What?" Lizzy asks with confusion, taking her arms back quickly as asked.

"Just… don't," he repeats, this time his voice is choked a bit. "Don't touch me."

Lizzy gets highly confused. "Baby, what the hell happened here?"

Head still down, Dean's never once looked at her. "He was a part of that nest. He tracked us down. Said he could smell us."

"Damn it," Lizzy sits down Indian-style in front of him and sigh. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to back you up."

"Me too," he answers back, tone not concerned enough. He sounds completely defeated.

"Looks like you handled it though… right?" Lizzy tries to lighten everything up for him, thinking he's just freaked out by handling his first monster on his own.

"Not as well as you think," Dean answers before sniffling, giving him away.

He's crying.

"Dean, it's alright…."

As she tries to assure him he picks up his head for the first time. She sees it all right then. Dark, drying blood smeared across his mouth. His eyes are unnaturally bloodshot. Skin pale.

She freezes, brain ceasing to work. She knows what she's looking at but she can't seem to grasp it. It's too harsh.

"You gotta do some things for me," Dean tells her.

Lizzy just stares, shaking. Out of sheer instinct she tries again to touch him, wanting to comfort him.

The moment her hand comes near his face, undoubtedly to cup his cheek like she always does, he can hear it. The beating of her heart, the rushing of her blood, the smell of her….

"Don't touch me!" Dean tries again, this time pushing her back a couple feet to put some distance there. The closer she is the harder it is not to simply drain her while he's still not too far gone to love her very much. She back on her ass on the carpet, eyes wide with surprise at him. "I'm… sorry," he quietly tells her, ashamed.

"Dean, I… uh…." She can't get words to form. "What's happening here?'

"You know what's happening here," Dean tells her, a tear falling from his eye and slowly rolling down his cheek until it mixes with the blood still on his face.

"No…" Lizzy denies it all.

"Lizzy…."

"No!" Lizzy shout in his face when the fear truly hits. "That's not what happened!"

"It did…"

"I need you!"

"I'm finished, Liz," Dean barely can get the words out. It hurts so much.

And it sinks in. He's a vamp. He got turned. He's surrendering to it all.

And Dean's about to die.

"I need to call Bobby," Lizzy says reaching into her back denim pocket.

"Don't do that."

"He'll know what to do…."

"No he won't!" Dean shouts, his tears coming faster now. "You and I both know there's no cure for this! No one knows one!"

"Someone has to!"

"Lizzy!" Dean shouts as he sees the panic settling in. "I know it's hard, I get it, but I need you to focus here. I don't have long before I can't fight this thing."

"Don't say that," Lizzy says weakly her eyes filling up instantly. "Baby, please…."

"Stop and fucking listen," Dean begs of her, staring hard at her as her eyes spill over. "I need you to listen to me, _please_."

Lizzy shakes her head in denial and looks away, unable to see at him like this.

"Liz, if you love me you'll hear me out. As hard as it is."

She makes a sobbing sound and slams her eyes shut, taking a moment to cry into her hands covering her face. This can't be happening. She just met him. It was only five month together.

She sniffles hard and looks at her husband, the man she loves with shocking strength. He looks worse every second, eyes hollow and dark.

"I need you to make sure Sammy's ok," Dean tells her. "You gotta watch him. You gotta make sure that Azazel and that demon army leave him the fuck alone."

Lizzy simply cries harder.

"He's gonna need help. And now, I can't…." Dean can't finish the statement. He wipes a hand down his face to get rid of the tears. "Just please, make sure my little brother's ok, alright?"

Lizzy nods, meaning it despite her inability to speak.

"Take care of my wheels," Dean asks. "I know you don't get it but she's… that's my girl. Well… my first girl." The smile is so slight but there. "If you can't or you need help just ask Bobby. He'll know what to do with her. But I want you to have her. I trust you."

"No," Lizzy sobs out once more when it keeps getting more real and she can't figure out how to manage it. He's saying goodbye.

"Tell Bobby and Karen thanks," Dean keeps right on going. "I, uh… I've never had real parents before, not for so long… just tell them thanks."

She nods again.

Dean takes a deep, unsteady breath. "Liz."

With just the sound of her name her sobbing gets worse. "Please… don't leave me."

"I don't want to," Dean tells her, barely holding it together either. "This is the last…." His face wrinkles with pain. "I love you."

She audibly lets out a whine of sheer anguish.

"God, I just met you…" he says, not even knowing what he's trying to say. "I just…. Ugh. Liz, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I love you so much," she weeps, heart breaking into tiny pieces. "I can't do this with without you. Please, this can't be really happening."

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes, tears continually falling as he speaks. "I wish you didn't have to go through this."

"We were gonna get out," she says. "Just a little bit longer and… and we were gonna… be out of this shit. Move to California."

"You still need to move out there."

"Without you?" she asks, pure devastation in her tone with the idea.

Dean hangs his head.

And Lizzy sobs some more.

"I need you to do it."

"No!" Lizzy says with total horror, knowing what he means.

"You have to."

"I can't do that. Dean, I can't."

"I don't want to ask this of you… but you gotta do it," Dean's green eyes plead with her when he looks up. "I'm barely hanging on. I'm doing all I can to stay over here… I won't last much longer. I'm starving."

"I'll call Bobby…."

"You'll be dead by the time he gets here," Dean promises, getting very serious.

"You wouldn't kill me," Lizzy tells him, absolutely sure of it.

"You can't feel this," Dean tries to make her understand. "And it wouldn't be _me_ killing you. It'd be… I'd be something else. You gotta put me down before this thing makes me not me. I don't want to become a monster. And I don't want you seeing me like that."

It gets silent in the room after that aside from Lizzy's sobbing and Dean's inability to breathe evenly. The heavy burden put on both of them more than either was ready to deal with. Neither looked at the future as grim or sad. They'd held too much hope to see past an inevitable tragedy.

"You're the only thing that makes me happy," Lizzy blurts out.

Dean looks at her and smiles. "I forgot how happy even felt until I met you. Liz, these were the best fucking days of my entire shitty life."

"It's not fair," Lizzy weeps.

"Hey, if I gotta go out now at least I knew what it was to be stupid happy before I meet my maker, right?" He shares a half, pathetic excuse for a laugh.

Curling up in a seated ball, Lizzy falls into a fit of sobs that couldn't be rivaled. Dean was the fucking air in her lungs and he's being taken away. She honestly feels like she's the one about to die.

"I can't kill you," she tells him for sure. "Please, Dean. Please, don't make me do this."

"It has to be you," Dean says to her, certain. "I know it isn't right and I know how hard it is to ask you this… but I need it to be you."

"Why?" Lizzy wonders, not getting why it is that she has to be the one to do this heavy deed.

He smiles at her wide, it looking wrong in the moment but it's so warm and loving Lizzy can't look away from it. It feels like home. "If I'm gonna die today… I want you to be the last thing I ever see."

Lizzy collapses. "That was so lame," she tells him through her hiccupping mess of emotion, unable to even hazard a single look his way after that. She buries her face in her hands and lets it all out, the racking sobs ugly and horrible.

Dean lets out a quiet laugh while sniffling, her words just what he needed to remember why he loves her. She's funny. She's sweet. She cares too much and works too hard and would probably die from stress at age forty-five if the life didn't get her first. She's brilliant and sharp, she's strong physically and stronger mentally. She wants what's best for everyone, even at the expense of her own wellbeing.

And that's why she needs to do this for him.

"Just get it over with," Dean asks of her. When Lizzy pulls her hands away from her face she sees the handle of a machete being held out towards her. When she locks eyes with Dean he nods. "I'm ready. I know it has to be done."

"I can't."

"You can."

"I can't kill you, Dean!"

"I'm already dead," he half scoffs with disbelief that they're here right now, dealing with this situation.

"This is my fault," Lizzy cries out. "Oh God, it's all my fault."

"It's not…" he tries to stop her but he can't. She's losing it quickly.

"No! It's my fucking fault! I let you come along. I should have told you hell no, ditched you in California…."

"I would have followed you. You couldn't have stopped me," Dean assures. "This isn't your fault. I did this for my brother and no one was gonna stop me from that."

"But I should have tried," she heavily sobs out with total regret.

"You did the right thing," Dean turns it around. "You knew I was getting into this life no matter what you did. Instead of try and stop me you trained me."

"Not well enough," Lizzy cries.

"No one blames you, Liz," he needs her to know. "I don't, not at all."

Watching her hugging her legs, Dean nearly dies of heartache when she says into her knees, "I don't want to live without you. I don't want to do this alone."

Looking away from the sad scene, Dean's eye spill over hard. He's trapped in a weird place between human emotional and complete love for this one person and absolute desire to feed and give into the darkness growing by the second inside of him.

"Liz, you'll be fine," Dean tries to tell her, the sob caught in his throat making him sound as unsure as he is. "You go to California. You find Sam. You'll… protect him. You do what I was gonna do. And… just live. Lizzy, just go out there and live a life. A really good one, ok? Don't become me."

She just shakes her head as it's pressed to her knees.

"Get a job, be normal. Bobby was right. You're heart's not built for this," he tells her, crying with the truth. "You care too much. Instead, just spend your time making sure Sammy's safe and… God, Liz. Be happy."

"I am happy," she weeps and lifts her head, red watery eyes staring right at him. "_You_. _You_ make me happy. I'm not happy without you."

Dean nods and closes his eyes. It makes total sense to him. "Knowing you… I've never been happier in my life. Thank you for making everything… just good for the first time in so long."

When she falls into yet another fit of sadness Dean's torn. He's dying to get closer to her, to hold her, comfort her… but if he does there's a good chance he attacks her. He would never do that to her.

"Damn it." An Idea hits. Dean gets up from the corner of the room and rushes to the weapon bag by the door. He rifles through it quickly as Lizzy watches. When he pulls out a roll of duct tape he moves sharply and hastily, pulling free the loose end and wrapping it around his own head several times, covering his mouth tightly. When he feels secure enough that he won't ever bite her, he rips the tape free and drops the roll.

Lizzy gets it right away. He's protecting her and finding a way to comfort her at the same time. She gets up as he walks to her and he slams into her, hugging her hard and tightly. He can feel her blood, hear it rushing and sounding so, so good. He fights it with every inch of his resolve left as he pulls her tightly, his heart shattering with her devastation.

But Lizzy doesn't think about the danger she's in. Trust is a hell of a thing. She trusts Dean even now. He'd never hurt her, vampirism or not. So she takes this moment for what it is. Her last with the one man she's ever and will ever truly love. It's terrible knowing that already but she does deep down. He is the one great love of her life.

And she has to say goodbye to that.

"Please don't leave me," she begs of him, face pressed to his canvas jacket with her arms around his middle.

He can't talk now, his words worthless at this point anyways. Anything he says now is just white noise. He's said it all. Instead, he just pulls her tighter and presses a hand to the back of her head, trying to speak through actions. He wants her to know he doesn't want to let her go either.

He isn't sure how long they stay that way but it feels like too long and not long enough at the same time. He's only getting hungrier by the second yet letting this hold on her go means it's the last time he'll feel that.

Eventually Dean backs off. He walks to the place he was sitting on the floor and picks up the machete he left there. Walking to the bed, he sits on the edge at the end and faces her, putting her a few inches taller than him. Maximum position. She can't miss and she can't have anything but her full strength behind her blow. It'll be hard enough to swing away at him once, forget if she needs another try.

Holding the cold metal of the blade, he hands it over handle first to her. With his eyes he asks her to do it, make it quick, and just send him on his way. It's over for him. And he's ready if he has to be.

Body shuddering sob let out, Lizzy slowly wraps her fingers around the handle. When Dean lets it go it drops hard by Lizzy's side. The weight of the long knife suddenly feels a lot heavier than ever before.

Trying to just simply breathe as her vision is continually blurred by never-ending tears, Lizzy takes ahold with both hands. She stares at him, his mouth so tightly wrapped with tape that his cheeks bulge slightly over it. His own eyes spill over, the trails making their way from skin to shiny silver duct tape.

"I love you… so much," she weeps, her voice torn and dying with everything. "I will always love you."

The way his expression wrinkles she knows he's saying it right back to her, his eyes peering into her hard one last time.

Lizzy steps up to him one last time, pressing her lips to his clammy, wrinkled brow and showing him how much she cares, how good a person he is, and how much love she interned to give him for a much longer time than just the mere months they had.

Dean lowers his lids tightly and ducks his head down a touch, absorbing the kindness and warmth that is all her as his teeth descend behind the tape. He just wants to remember this, wherever he's going. He pictures her behind his closed eyes, making sure the last image in his brain is of her.

He clasps his hands, sits there tensed up, and waits as he can feel her backing up again. He waits for it to be over. The pain of hunger, the darkness creeping its way through him, the changes happening too quickly for him to ever hold it off… he needs it to end before he does something horrible.

Lizzy gathers every ounce of emotional strength she has in her and winds up. She has to do this before she watches the love of her entire life turn into the very thing she hunts and hates. She has to do this. She has to.

But can she ever come back from this?

Inhale and get ready, exhale and swing. She knows what to do.

She inhales deeply, looking at him waiting there. Her breath is shaky at best. She winds up.

Before she can swing, Dean's eye fly open. They're lit up a brilliant white and his face is contorted in pain. She can hear him scream from behind the duct tape as the light grows brighter and brighter by the second, his voice tortured and in pain. The burst explodes through the room and Lizzy has to shield her face and eyes with it, the loud ringing in her ears coming with it.

And then it's done. As quickly as the explosion came it was over and the room falls silent and still.

"What the fuck?" Lizzy says to herself, her heart hammering with fear and confusion. What the hell just happened? She was about the swinger her machete and… what!?

When she pulls her forearm away from her face and looks the room is disheveled and a mess.

And Dean's lifeless body is stretches across the mattress with his heavy-booted feet on the floor still. One look at his eyes and she's horrified.

"Oh no," she says to herself, dropping the machete and diving onto the bed next to him. On her knees, she lifts his head up into her lap and she sees it. His eyes are burnt out, just charred holes left behind in his face. The darkness of them, vacant instead of the expressive, beautiful green she's used to seeing stares up at her hollow and horrible. "Dean?" she calls his name, fully knowing he's not going to respond.

She hastily pulls and unravels the tape around his mouth and head. When it's gone it's just him, no fangs descended or traces of what he was becoming. Aside from his eyes he just looks like her Dean.

But he's not. He's gone. She's know it.

"Baby?" she tries one last time, her two fingers pressed to his pulse point in his neck. Nothing. He's dead. "Oh God," she whispers to herself, hands covering her own face in order to avoid it all for just a moment.

The pain. It's so bad. It hurts like nothing else she's ever experienced in her life. She lost her entire family and survived. But this? She doesn't know how to survive this. It's unbearable.

"I love you," she says to him as the full blown sobs come right back, her hands cradling his head into her lap with is face pressed to her middle as she tries to understand how she went from a quiet night of takeout food and crap TV while cuddled up in a lumpy bed to her entire life being ruined. She rocks him, tucked into her arms as his body grows cold along with her heart. "God, I love you… so much… please, Dean, please don't be gone…."

* * *

**And let the angry reviews begin... I'm ready. I can take it. **


	49. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 12)

**Author's Note: I think many assumed this reality was over with Dean's death. Oh, lovely readers... we are not nearly done with this one.**

* * *

"I have no idea what did that to him," Bobby says sadly as he comes back into the house. His expression is long and worn after having helped Lizzy get Dean's body out back behind the house.

She called him from the road, having already gotten Dean's body wrapped in sheets and laid across the back seat of his own car. She was already on her way to his house, not knowing at all what else to do. She was vague about what happened, wasn't able to talk about it while driving, but when she showed up at their house, collapsing into sobs while unable to even stand on her feet anymore, he got the story out of her. The very sad story with a very odd ending.

"Neither do I," Lizzy sniffles, sitting at the table right up against Karen sitting next to her. Karen has her arm around her shoulders and Lizzy's leaning into her. A pile of crumpled tissues litter the table around them. "It was so fucking weird."

"You don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to," Karen tells her sweetly, her voice low and sad as she runs soothing fingers through Lizzy's long hair.

Lizzy just nods her head and lets out a shaking sigh. Her eyes water over again and she hangs her head.

"Sweetie, it's fine. We can talk tomorrow," Karen tells her, leaning her head into the devastated woman's. "You really need to get some rest. You're exhausted."

"I can't," she cries. "If…. If I try I just, I see him. And I'll never see him again."

Karen hugs her tightly and tries her best to not cry along with her. The utter anguish over the state of her girl is killing them both. They love her too much to see this from her.

"Come on, dear," Karen says to her and stands up, pulling Lizzy with her. She helps her to the living room and lays her down on the couch. Karen sits first and pulls Lizzy's head in to her lap, continuing to comb through her hair gingerly and with total love as the young girl weeps quietly through her exhaustion, Bobby walking back outside to avoid the scene as he just can't handle it.

Making his way back around the house, Bobby heads to the sheet covered form he plans to take care of properly tomorrow. He sits down onto the grass next to what is left of the young man he'd come to truly like, maybe even consider family, and sighs.

Taking a moment alone, he lets his own sorrow take over for just a few minutes. He doesn't cry much, not since the possession of Karen years ago, but this loss deserves a few moments of mourning.

Dean was a good man. He was kind and caring, he put loved ones far before himself, and he was driven. He wanted to help. He just wanted to help his brother and some other people while he was at it.

And now Bobby's adopted daughter is absolutely devastated. And his hopes for her quieter future are dashed.

After some time alone he gets going on building the pyre. He called Sam the moment he knew Dean was dead and Lizzy was coming here. It was a terrible conversation, one in which he told the poor kid that his one and only brother that means the world to him had passed. It was ugly and at first Sam hung up on him. When he called back over an hour later they spoke briefly and Sam agreed that Dean's final place should be at Bobby's since he truly loved it there.

Sam's already probably about halfway there. Should arrive by morning.

Bobby better build that pyre before he arrives.

* * *

"Kare."

Karen lifts her head up and wakes when she hears her nickname. She opens her eyes quickly and looks up, Bobby standing over her with a dirt smudged face.

"I'm up," she says, adjusting slightly and feeling a weight in her lap. When she looks down she see Lizzy fast asleep there, still with her face calm for the first time since she arrived.

"Don't move," Bobby asks of her.

"My legs are asleep."

"Just give her a few more minutes?" Bobby tries again, sitting across the coffee table from her in a wooden chair he brought in from the kitchen. "She needs it."

Karen nods sadly, looking at their girl with her hand gently placed on her head, Lizzy's body curled up in the fetal position. "Bobby, what are we going to do?"

Wrinkling his forehead he looks at Lizzy. "Take it a day at a time. Watch her like a damn hawk. Deal with Sam when he gets here." He then shrugs. "Past a proper hunter's funeral I don't know what else we _can_ do."

"She was so happy," Karen gets choked up. "Have you ever seen her like that?"

"Never."

"I was so excited for her," Karen closes her eyes with pain. "And he was so good to her. I wasn't even all that mad when they eloped."

"Yeah, me neither," Bobby admits.

"You told him you'd castrate him if he ever fucked up," Karen reminds him of his threat when they called with the good news.

"I knew I'd never have to do that," Bobby tells her. "He was a good kid."

"Oh, I miss him," Karen admits, crying quietly so as not to wake up the unfortunate girl him her lap. "I really liked him."

"Me too," Bobby easily confesses, having truly let Dean into his life. "Why don't you let her sleep here? Leave her be for the night?"

"Think we should leave her alone?"

"She might need time alone without the body of her husband near her," Bobby reminds her of the torture Lizzy endured on the way here.

Together they get Lizzy lying on the couch alone, a decorative pillow under her head and a blanket over her body. Karen kisses her cheek. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

* * *

In the middle of the night Lizzy wakes. Her eyes fly open on their own, no sound heard. She doesn't know what pulled her from sleep but something did.

Sitting up slowly, confused to find herself alone and it being dark out, she wipes her puffy eyes. Blinking away the sleep she sees Bobby's living room, antiques and all. The room is still and silent.

Scanning around her eyes stop when she sees a man standing in the kitchen. She inhales sharply at the shock. Observing him without moving, she holds her breath.

He's facing away from her, his entire body in profile as he leans his back into the edge of the kitchen counter. He has a tan trench coat on, unbuttoned and open. He has shiny wingtips on his feet and what looks like black slacks under the trench coat. She catches what she thinks it a tie around his neck, blue. His dark hair is disheveled at best and his eyes are staring into the study that he's facing. His five o'clock shadow paired with unruly hair makes him look rougher around the edges than his clothing would let on.

She's never seen this man in her life.

Lizzy reaches down into her boot that she never took off before passing out. She grabs her silver knife she usually stashes there, it not being very big but it can be awfully effective if it's all she has, and takes a deep inhale to prepare.

"That knife is entirely unnecessary," the man in the kitchen tells her, never once looking at her to know she has a weapon at all. "I am not here to harm you."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see about that," Lizzy speaks right back. She stands slowly, holding her only weapon tightly and walking toward the stranger cautiously. "Who are you?"

He turns his head and follows her as she moves. "I am Castiel."

"Weird name," Lizzy tells him, walking closer. She's not getting any feelings of fear or danger from him. Not at all. Instead it's the opposite. She feels comfortable and good. The knife never leaves her hand however. It remains at the ready. Never get caught with your pants down.

"Yes, well, my father didn't think so," Castiel says to her in return as she stands in front of him with a good five feet between. When he looks at her he smiles slightly. "It is very good to finally see you again, Elizabeth."

Lizzy face drops with confusion. "Again? We've met before?"

"When you were only a child," he answers, grinning lightly with nostalgia. "My, you were such a curious and wide-eyed little one. And quite sharp. I enjoyed your company."

"Why don't I remember you?" she asks the mystery man.

"Oh, I didn't look like this when we met," Castiel answers easily, standing tall and fixing his coat lapels. He's roughly Dean's height, tall and intimidating, but still she doesn't feel intimidated. "I looked… very much different."

"What did you look like back then?" Lizzy keeps questioning while completely lost with his answers, her knife dropped by her side unknowingly.

"It does not matter," Castiel answers, not ready to get into it too much. "The point is I have been with you for a very long time, just mostly unseen for the past twenty-five years. But after all you've been through I felt it necessary for me to… reintroduce myself. You could use some guidance right now."

"Dude, I don't know who you are… but you can't just break into people's houses and start talking all creepy like this in the middle of the night," Lizzy tells him, impatient and confused. "Especially not in a hunter's house."

"I think I will fair just fine," Castiel says with certainty.

"Bobby!" Lizzy calls over her shoulder with that threatening-sounding answer. "Bobby, get down here!"

"He can't hear you," Castiel promises.

Lizzy's heart plummets with what that could mean.

"No, I did nothing to your father-figure," Castiel reads her mind. "He's quite well and asleep, just like Karen. They can't hear you because you aren't awake."

"So this is all just some fucked up dream I'm having?" Lizzy wonders.

"Somewhat," Castiel's eyes narrow. "We are in your subconscious mind, which is accessible through your dreams. It was the only safe way for me to speak to you."

"You mean since if this _was_ real life I'd have killed you by now," Lizzy challenges. "I mean, you did break into my house…."

"I do not fear attack by you," Castiel kindly tells her.

"You should." Her voice is dark and warning.

"You cannot kill me, Elizabeth," he tells her. "I just wanted to speak to you without interruption."

Lizzy's expression wrinkles. "Well then, I'll bite. You somehow have access to my freakin' head so… what the hell are you?"

Castiel's face takes on a serene and proud look. "I am an angel of the Lord."

"Fuck you," Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"It's true. I am an angel. I am a watcher, sent to look over the Earth and to look over you specifically."

"Me!?"

Castiel shares what seems to her to be an uncharacteristic smile. "Yes."

"Ok, wait up here," Lizzy scoffs, her knife held low by her side now. "Angels aren't real."

"How can you be sure?"

"Dude, I've seen everything," Lizzy tells him. "Demons, hell spawn, ghost, wraiths, ghouls, you name it. If it exists I know how to kill it… and I have. I've never even heard of an angel, not a real one."

"We have not been on the Earth for a long time… not since roughly six through thirty-six B.C. in your designated way of organizing time."

She just stares at him oddly, not getting it. "Look, I'm not all that religious to be honest…."

"If I were you I would not believe in such things either," Castiel tells her, taking a step forward out of need to comfort. She immediately steps back, giving a suspicious look. "I will not harm you, Elizabeth. I would never dare do such a terrible thing."

"Just stay back then, huh?" she asks of him, grip tightening around the knife handle still at the ready.

He nods once, agreeing to listen to her request. "I would never, and will never, lie to you. Never you. I am what I claim to be."

"Prove it, then," Lizzy defiantly asks of him, arms crossing over her chest.

He sighs, seeing he has no choice. "Do not be alarmed."

He lowers his head, closing his eyes, and Lizzy waits for the few seconds he takes to himself. When Castiel looks back up at her, his eyes are a brilliant blue color, the brightness shocking and unnatural. And the lights in the kitchen and living room flash on and off, no one physically flipping any switches. She can make out the shadow of massive, wide-spanning black wings. She sucks a breath in with the sight of what she only thought was impossible before now.

After a few moments Castiel puts his wings away, the room falling to the darkness of night again. Lizzy stands there shocked and speechless.

"They are intimidating, I know. I try to keep them hidden most of the time for that reason."

"Why are you here now?" Lizzy wants to know, fear pounding away in her chest.

"You have had a life that I would never want for you. The loss of your family, the pain of fighting all the evil you have, and now, losing Dean…."

"Don't!" she warns fairly, her chin already quivering with just the simple mention of his name. Her eyes rim with tears and Castiel can feel the pain radiating off of her.

"I will not speak of him much further as I understand the bond you two shared," Castiel agrees as she wipes away the tears that fell. "I never wished this heartache on you, Elizabeth."

She just looks at the floor, unable to speak without crying.

"I promise you, I have taken action. He is resting comfortably in the fields of the Lord."

Her face wrinkles in sheer pain when he says this, wishing to burn down those fields if it mean she could get him back.

While she's not looking, Castiel steps forward into her space, hugging her very unexpectedly.

Her instincts say to fight him, stab him with the knife in her hand, but she doesn't. Her being is suddenly filled with a warm sensation of comfort and love. She feels soothed somehow, and calmed. And the pain lessens for just the moment he's embracing her.

"It was you?" she asks quietly, her chin on his shoulder as his arms are still around her. The way he just made everything bearable makes her start to believe.

"Regretfully, yes," he answers, still holding her awkwardly yet with concern. "I couldn't let you be the one to do that. You'd never recover. You'd never be… Elizabeth again, not after that."

She nods her head slightly, agreeing with his assessment. "Are you really an angel?"

"Yes, I am," he tells her, backing away a step and looking at her.

"Then… bring him back," Lizzy asks of him, a lone tear rolling slowly down her cheek. "Please. If he's upstairs then just bring him back down."

The way her face pleads, looking to him with glassy, devastated eyes make his answer much harder to say. "I cannot do that."

"Why?"

"My Father does not wish it," Castiel simply explains. "Death is… final."

"I'm not ready to live without him," she cries. "Please, Castiel. Can't you do something? He was a good man. He deserves better."

"I completely agree," Castiel tells her. "I just can't do what you request. It's not in my power. My father hasn't willed it."

"Tell him he needs to reconsider."

"I cannot do that."

"Why not?'

"We don't speak to him directly… not most of us…."

"He won't even talk to you but you follow his orders anyways?"

He looks away. "It's very complicated…."

"Then screw your father!"

His face goes to stone when he looks back at her. "I wouldn't say such things if I were you."

"Sorry," she immediately apologizes, knowing she's crazy right now. She sniffles and looks around the room helplessly, wiping her eyes. "Can't blame a girl for trying, right?"

Castiel smiles sadly. "Not at all."

She takes a moment to settle and calm her crying before asking him, "Why are you here now? If you're an angel and you've been with me for a while and all… why bother now?"

"You are to play a very large part of the story."

"What story?"

"The Bible."

"I… uh, the Bible is a fucking book. It's got an ending. A pretty gnarly one too, if I remember…."

"Not yet," Castiel explains. "There has yet to play out the next chapter of the story."

"And I'm a part of it?" she asks, complete disbelieving him.

"You are _the_ part of it," he tells her, once more reaching out to her. He places his hand, palm flat, against her lower stomach. "You are everything." He smiles quite warmly for such a stuffy being.

The way he touches her unexpectedly doesn't upset her in the least. Instead she's more confused than ever but she's not at all afraid of him.

"Believe me when I say the road won't be easy," Castiel explains very sternly yet keeps his kind contact with her, hand to stomach. "It will be fraught with difficulty, rife with challenges that seem far too big for a mere human to handle… but you are strong. You are different. And you are going to be magnificent as long as you stay on course, seek the light… and do not look to the darkness."

She just nods, not knowing what he's speaking about.

"Those of us on the good side of things have taken a hit, much like you have recently. I need you to be diligent. Keep evil away from you and away from your loved ones." The way he says it sounds like a frightening demand more than a request.

"O-ok," she nods, not understanding him at all.

"If you need me I will always be there for you. You just need to pray for me and I will hear you wherever you are," he tells her and her eyes open.

She can hear the knocking on the side door of Bobby's house as she's laying sideways on the couch alone. She sits up slowly, blanket on her lap, and rubs her face. She can feel the swollen, puffy eyes she's got and sighs.

What the hell was that dream?

She pulls herself up from the couch as she hears Karen open the side door. Immediately Karen is heard apologizing and saying kind words of sympathy and she knows who's on the other side of that doorway.

Karen steps aside and in walks the tall frame of Sam Winchester, the one person she's been horrified to see. Does he blame her? Will he think she fucked up and didn't have Dean's back? Or maybe that it's just simply her fault since Dean came with her in the first place?

When Sam looks to the side and sees her standing there looking just as terrible as he does, he watches her form tense with uncertainty. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing can manage its way out. Instead he moves quickly, marching for her as his eyes fill right up.

He hugs her hard, bending down to her height and catching her by total surprise. She wasn't ready for him to be looking for comfort from her at all. She assumed he hated her for what happened.

"Lizzy, I'm so sorry," he cries, his body already shaking with the sorrow.

She inhales sharply once with shock before crying herself. "Oh God, Sam. I'm sorry. You're brother… I… I'm so fucking sorry."

And they stay that way for a long time, both understanding everything that happened for what it was and needing each other more than they've ever needed anyone.

* * *

Standing outside behind the old farmhouse, Lizzy tries to keep breathing evenly as everything happens around her. She watched Sam and Bobby lift Dean's wrapped body up and onto the pyre of logs Bobby made the night before. She saw the gasoline being poured around the base, smelled it even, yet she felt numb.

Looking down at her fist she slowly opens it. There in the palm of her hand is the cheap, gold-plated wedding band he put on just a few weeks ago. It shines in the sunlight, the dent in it from when he threw a punch and missed one of the vampires they were fighting off just two days ago a reminder of why they're standing here now. That ring symbolizes their bond, their marriage, their link to each other. And he's not wearing it. Bobby took it off before wrapping him up tight. She's not sure if it was a good idea or not now. Seems odd that he wouldn't be wearing it. But, with their lives, they don't own much. She only has a handful of pictures of him as it is. Without this ring it might not even feel like he was ever real, maybe just a figment of her imagination.

But when she looks to the right she's reminded of how real Dean was. Sam's standing next to her, silent tears never once stopping since he arrived. He's looking at a gold pendant on a black cord, the necklace Dean never took off until right now. She watches him study it for a moment longer, sniffling once before lifting it up. He puts it on, pressing the little gold face to his chest once before dropping his arms to his sides, lost.

"Lizzy?" Bobby asks, holding out a lighter to her once everything was ready. She shakes her head no almost violently, not able to be the thing that starts the burning of Dean's body… a body she loves and will never once touch again.

Bobby then looks to Sam. He thinks for a moment, unsure, but steps up and takes the lighter. Before he's able to light the fire he fists the lighter and turns around to look at Bobby, Karen, and Lizzy.

"I don't… I'm not great, um… at speaking. Especially in times…." He sighs. "I just, um… thank you. Dean's never been… his life wasn't easy. And he never needed it to be easy. He was always a strong guy. But… I, uh… I have never seen my brother as happy as he was with all of you."

Lizzy hangs her head and gives in, letting her sobbing out.

"He never had a real family, not like most people do," Sam keeps going. "He had me but… that wasn't much. And I was a pain in the ass… or at least he told me that all the time." He smiles very quickly with that. He wipes his eyes. "Thank you for giving Dean purpose. He needed that. And he needed kindness to be shown to him. And a chance. You all gave him that… you gave him what I never could."

"We loved him," Karen says to him, explaining why they did what they did for Dean. She brings her arm around Lizzy's shoulders and pulls her close. "He was a very good man."

"I know," Sam nods. "I, uh… I can't believe he's gone." Bowing his head for a second, Sam lets go and cries right there. This is surreal. He spoke to Dean just days ago, the man happy and bright and excited about visiting his little brother soon. And now Sam's trying to deal with the idea that he'll never speak to his own brother, the one person he's ever had in his life, ever again.

He hears the gravel crunching and arms around his middle immediately. He doesn't need to look to know it's Lizzy. Blindly he hugs her back, hard. They sob together once more, unable to face this loss alone.

"You don't have to do this, son," Bobby tells Sam and takes the lighter from his hand. Sam lets him.

The fire goes up quickly and they all stand watch. Lizzy's hand is tightly woven into Sam's as they observe Dean's mortal form return to dust.

"I love you," Lizzy quietly whispers, her last words uttered for the next day.

* * *

"You know, I saw a picture of her. In Dean's room," Lizzy speaks up first, both having been silent since they got out of the Impala. They walk through the graveyard that's pleasantly quiet on a weekday, a mason jar in Sam's hand. Lizzy has a small shovel and a small potted Black Eyed Susan plant, the flower Dean always said was Mary's favorite.

"Of mom?" Sam guesses, looking to his side as they move.

"Yeah. I never told him I saw it but he had a picture of the two of them when Dean was probably four."

"Oh yeah," Sam nods, tone serious. "He wasn't four yet. Close. I know what one you're talking about. On his dresser?"

"That's the one," she quietly answers. "She's beautiful."

"She was," Sam nods, the subject a tough one for him. He never really got to know his mom. He has no memories of her because he was too young. He feels jipped.

"And he looked so happy just to be with her," Lizzy keeps going. "He loved her so much. I'm really glad you came up with this idea."

Sam just nods once and keeps walking, knowing right where he's going. When they reach the headstone he stops, looking down at the green grass around it. "The corner, there?" he points to the edge of the stone.

"Ok," she nods, getting down on the ground. She starts to dig a small hole off to the front side of Mary's grave. When she's done she backs up a little and sits Indian-style, patting the grass next to her.

Sam sits down with her and sets the mason jar in front of him. Immediately there's a hand linked in his, holding hard. When he looks at her she looks devastated all over again.

"Sam, I really am sorry about all this."

"We've been over this, Lizzy…."

"No, I know… I just still feel guilty," Lizzy says, a single tear falling down her cheek.

"Don't do that to yourself," Sam tells her. "Dean chose this life. It's no one's fault that… this is the outcome. Especially not yours."

"God damn it am I lucky you're understanding."

Sam just give her a fake smile and looks back down at the jar. "Doesn't seem right."

"What?"

"Dean just always felt… bigger than life," Sam explains, holding his tears back if he can. "Doesn't feel like he fits in there."

"Oh God no," Lizzy half laughs, half cries. "That personality doesn't fit in a fucking jar."

Sam huffs sadly at that.

"And I loved that personality."

"I know you did," Sam nods.

"I just… loved him… so fucking much," Lizzy tells Sam, her grip tightening. "He was it for me. I know it."

"Don't say that…." Sam tries to calm her but it doesn't work.

"Sam, stop it. Dean was my… one," she tells him, crying yet again. "I know you think I'm just mourning or really upset but I'm not gonna love anyone like that ever again. I'm not."

Sam lets her hand go to pulls her into his side. Over the past months they got to know each other. They spoke on the phone as Lizzy checked on Sam and answered his questions when Dean and he would have their every other day conversation. And in the past three days especially they've been in the same boat of mourning and had only each other to hang onto. When Sam presses a quick kiss to her hair it's out of mutual understanding and shared loss.

"I'm glad he got to have you before… this happened," Sam lets her know. "It's harder for you now but… at least Dean was happy."

"I wouldn't take any of it back," Lizzy assures him.

Sam takes his arm back and picks up the jar. He opens it. He doesn't have anything he can say as, luckily, he knows Dean always knew it all. From his thankfulness for all Dean has done for him in his life to the love they had for each other as they only ever had each other, Dean knew everything.

Lizzy silently watches Sam pour the ashes into the hole she dug, knowing how appreciative Dean would be that he's by his mother's side. His love for her was so strong and never-ending that there is no better place for him to rest. Half his ashes are at Bobby's where Lizzy can easily visit him, half with his long lost mother.

Once that's done, Lizzy loosens the potted plant from the plastic pot in came in. She places it over the ashes and fills some dirt around it, planting it securely there. She sniffles a few times as she does it and once it's done Sam's handing her a tissue.

"Thanks," she smiles lightly, blowing her nose. When done she looks at Sam. "So, um… John couldn't make it?"

"No," Sam answers quickly.

"What did he have to say about all this?"

He looks at her guiltily. "Nothing."

"Nothing!?" she asks, already outraged.

"Nope."

She looks at him funny when she thinks she gets it. "Did you tell him?"

"I can't."

"What!? Why not?"

"He's, uh…." Sam looks down at the grass, not happy that he has to speak such truths in front of his mother's grave. "I don't think he's gonna be around much longer."

Lizzy just stares at him with wide eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I was gonna tell Dean when he came to visit," Sam says quietly. "Dad took a turn for the worst."

"How so?"

"He found out that Dean left after I moved out… and he didn't take it well. He started drinking more. He was hospitalized for a few days after I found him passed out when I went to check on him. He threw up in his sleep and I couldn't wake him up. I thought he was already dead…."

"Jesus…."

"They said he had severe liver damage and needed medical attention. He was supposed to stay in the hospital for a while, for treatment," Sam keeps going, glancing at his mother's grave stone with absolute guilt. "He, of course, wouldn't listen. Instead he signed himself out of the hospital and went home. I'm just waiting for the day I show up and find him dead for real at this point since he's just been drinking alone."

Lizzy's face falls hard. "Sam."

"What?"

She shakes her head and kneels up off the grass. She hugs him hard, shattered over what he tells her. "You have had it so hard…."

"I'm fine," Sam coldly answers.

"You can't be," Lizzy denies him, holding him hard.

"I deal with it," Sam tells her, pushing her gently away. "This was dad's path all along. Dean and I knew it'd end this way at some point. We tried for years to get him help but you can't get help for someone that doesn't want it."

Lizzy just keeps quiet. It isn't her family. Maybe it is, she did marry Dean, but she's never even really met John.

"You alright to go?" Sam asks, ready to get away and get back home. This has all been awful. Anything normal sounds damn good right about now.

Looking at the bright yellow flowers, Lizzy grabs the gold chain around her neck. She spins the wedding band on it, missing him so hard she can't believe she's still breathing. "No." Her voice is elevated, ready to cry again. "But we should go. Find a place to crash in a few hours and make it a long drive tomorrow."

"Ok," Sam nods and stands up. He holds out his hand and she takes it. Once he pulls her up they head back for the Impala, heading towards wherever it is this shit life is supposed to lead them next.

* * *

"Come on in," Sam says to her as he unlocks and opens the door to his basic apartment in the complex near campus. He steps aside and Lizzy walks in with her one bag of possessions over her shoulder.

Two steps in and she stands still, taking in the sparse surroundings. A single couch, an old TV tray holding an even older television, and a small table with only two chairs. "Wow. I love what you've done with the place."

"Shut up," Sam says to her as he closes the door and stands next to her. "All I do is sleep and study here. Plus, you know, I didn't have much money."

Lizzy looks up at him. "I thought Dean told you to call him if you ran low on funds?"

"I could eat. I could pay the bills. That's all I was ever gonna ask of him." Sam says it with annoyance and true sorrow.

"I understand that," Lizzy nods at him. She then looks down the small hallway. "How many bedrooms?"

"One," Sam answers while heading down said hallway. "You can take the bed for now. The couch is a pullout and I can make that work."

"Yeah fucking right," Lizzy scoffs, dropping her back by the side of the couch. "This is your place. You keep your room."

"It's fine, Lizzy," Sam yells out to her.

"Fuck you, Sam," she loudly answers back, already pulling the cushions off the couch. "You're not gonna win."

"Watch me," he defiantly says to her, walking into the room with a set of sheets, a pillow, and a comforter.

"Boy, you really don't know me that well," she scoffs a little, pulling the bed out.

"You don't know me very well either."

"Yes I do."

"How could you?"

"Dean always tells me…" and she pauses there. She's speaking of him in the present, living tense. She sighs heavily. "He always _told_ me tons about you. I feel like I know you already."

The way her attitude plummets lets Sam know he needs to tread lightly. "You can talk about him, Lizzy."

"I don't want to… even though I want to," she says, her voice sounding like a question. "I... I don't know what I feel like doing. Shit, I don't know anything anymore." She plops down onto the end of the pullout mattress and hunches her back, moping like she should.

"No one's asking anything of you right now," Sam tells her. "I have no idea what the hell I'm gonna do either, if that helps." He laughs sadly, sitting next to her. "Maybe we can just not know what the fuck we'd doing together, huh?"

"Yeah," Lizzy nods, staying hunched. "He loved you, Sam. More than he loved me."

"Not at all possible," Sam scoffs, keeping his sorrow in check if he can manage. "He was obsessed with you."

Lizzy smiles sadly. "Yeah, well, I was pretty obsessed with him too so..."

The room grows quiet, both clearly having a moment of remembrance. The impact Dean's life has left on these two is immeasurable.

"Sam, go to bed," Lizzy tells him. "You have to be exhausted."

"I am," he nods. "And I might try to get to classes tomorrow."

"Really!? You could do that?"

"All Dean wanted was for me to live a normal life," Sam shrugs it off. "Normal for me is school. I'm gonna make sure he gets what he always wanted."

Lizzy smiles as her eyes fill up. "I swear that's really the only thing he ever wanted."

"Well, he better be proud then when I make it happen, then," Sam says to her.

She looks at him for a second, shocked at how well he's able to maintain and keep focused on a goal to get by. "Go to sleep."

"You're on my bed," Sam tells her quickly.

"Fuck that," Lizzy tells him, wiping her eyes before the tears could fall. "You have shit to do tomorrow. The only thing I'm gonna do tomorrow drink my ass off. Get to your room."

"Fine… bossy," Sam bitches lightly and gets up. "If you need anything let me know. You have free reign of the place. What's mine is yours and all."

"Thank you," Lizzy appreciates.

They share a quick glance of awkwardness before he disappears down the hall. As she readies her bed for the night, putting on the sheets and blanket, she fluffs the pillow and gets comfortable. Turning on the television with the old remote, she kicks off her boots and strips down. She's too emotionally exhausted to think about properly preparing for bed. In just her tank top and underwear she crawls under the covers.

Once settled she gets irreversibly depressed. TV at bedtime. This was their ritual. She and Dean would get comfortable under the covers, fight over what to watch, decide on something neutral, and usually end up sweaty and saying each other's names within moans before they actually went to sleep if they weren't exhausted from their latest hunt.

Those days are gone. Dean won't poke fun of her want to watch reality crap shows over Ghostbusters for the millionth time and he certainly won't have her shaking with satisfaction before falling asleep with his arms around her any time soon.

It's too much to handle. The thought breaks her.

"I miss you so much," she whispers out to the air, covering her face as she sits up, crying yet again.

It's all she does these days. She's getting sick of it but can't do a damn thing about it. The tears don't stop. They just won't.

"Baby, what do I do without you?" she sobs quietly into her hands and tries her hardest to breathe. "We were supposed to be happy…."

She stops talking mostly to herself when she hears it. A sniffle that she knows was supposed to be quieter. It came from down the hallway.

Sam's in just about the same state she is right now, what she saw before he went to his room a front. They're both miserable… but does she go to him? They know each other somewhat but they've never spent all that much time together. It might be overstepping some boundaries if she just assumes he'd want her presence right now.

But then again, what do boundaries even mean anymore? After all they've been through? After all the pain they've both felt? Fuck boundaries. Whatever proper is, it sounds like bullshit when the world has decided you're its punching bag.

Wiping her face roughly, Lizzy gets out of her makeshift bed. With unsure steps she starts down the very short hallway. She reaches his door and stops for a moment. It's halfway open and she can hear him sighing, most definitely crying. When she peeks in she can just make out the shape of a figure sitting on the edge of the mattress facing away from her, head hung low and shoulders slumped. His back is shaking with his sadness and Lizzy's chest hurts for him, knowing he's lost the one remaining family member he had that truly gave a shit about him.

It's all unfair. And he shouldn't have to deal with this alone.

Uninvited, Lizzy walks quietly into Sam's bedroom. She climbs onto his bed and most likely is being very presumptuous when she reaches out for him. Kneeling behind him, Lizzy brings her arms around his shoulders and rests her chin on his right shoulder, putting them cheek to cheek.

Sam doesn't even flinch. He won't admit it but he needed this. Instead of ask her to leave like he would in most cases, Sam brings his hands up and grabs onto her forearms around his upper chest. He cries even harder now that she's here, like her company is the permission he needs to be this sad and this miserable.

And Lizzy lets herself go too. They don't say a word, they don't speak about the past or of the man they miss horribly. They simply exist in their mourning state together.

* * *

Startled awake by the usual annoying sound of the alarm on his phone, Sam's eyes open wide. He reaches for the small table he got at a yard sale next to his bed and grabs the phone, silencing the blaring sound as soon as he can possibly do it.

Dropping his phone on his blanket covered chest once he rolls onto his back, he feels like he got maybe two hours tops. His eyes are worn and puffy, he can tell already, and this idea to head right back into classes suddenly seems like the worst fucking idea he's ever had. Staying in bed, covers pulled over his head and real world shut completely out, sounds like a far more comfortable day than pretending to be fine and attempting to listen to what a professor has to say.

Everything feels wrong.

Sam looks to his side and finds Lizzy there, a couple inches put between them. She's lying on her back and staring hard at the white ceiling, still as can be. Her hands are folded on top of the blanket. She looks wide awake and her eyes are dark circled.

"Lizzy?" Sam calls her name while slowly sitting up. She doesn't move. He tries again. "Lizzy, did you sleep at all?"

"No," she answers singularly, eyes blinking once and remaining at the ceiling.

He sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. "You gotta get some sleep soon."

She doesn't answer him, just keeps staring.

"I have to get up," Sam tells her, standing out of bed and walking to his dresser in the sparse room. He grabs a pair of jeans and figures it's enough. He can keep his old t-shirt on and get by. "You can stay here if you want… maybe sleep."

She still doesn't answer.

"I'll call Bobby if you want, before I go…."

"I'll call him."

He's relieved that she spoke, even if it's that one simple sentence. "Ok." He starts for the door, thinking he should shower and try to be presentable as much as he truly doesn't want to. He just wants to sleep forever. But Dean wanted him to get his education and succeed in life. He owes his brother that much. "You need anything? Money or… I don't know?"

"Still have my credit cards."

"Aren't they fraudulent?"

"They work."

He knows that means yes. "I have money saved if you need anything at all."

"I'm fine, Sam. Go to class," Lizzy says to the ceiling.

"Can you at least look at me once so I feel better about leaving you here?" Sam asks of her, his gut telling him not to let her stay there alone.

Lizzy lifts her head and looks blankly at Sam in the bedroom doorway. She doesn't say anything but her lack of expression and hollow looking eyes tells him all he needs to know.

"I can stay."

"Leave." She turns over in bed and looks away from him. "Keep your promise to your brother."

Knowing he could regret it, Sam leaves the room.

* * *

A good quarter of the fifth she bought at the store down the street gone and Lizzy builds up her nerve enough to do it.

Dean's bag has been sitting by the apartment door since the night before, Sam having brought it in from the Impala. It's just been glaring at her with hate all day and she's had it.

Pulling the backpack into her lap while on the carpet Indian-style, Lizzy takes a huge swig of Jameson and plops the bottle next to her. The pain has been dulled just enough to manage.

Unzipping the main compartment, she's immediately greeting with his scent. She reaches for his favorite t-shirt, the AC/DC tour t-shirt from the seventies that they found at a thrift shop in Michigan while on the road. He never stopped wearing that thing and he hadn't had a chance to clean it after last having it on.

Inhaling into the black cloth, Lizzy thanks God that he never washed it. As a combination of shaving cream, sandalwood, and leather from the jacket he always wore surrounds her, she feels like he's right there next to her. Just for a second she could fool herself of it. But it's a lie.

She pulls the t-shirt over her tank top and lets the smell remain with her as she keeps going. She digs through his clothing one piece at a time, folding each one as she goes. When there's a pile next to her and the main compartment is empty she moves on to the smaller pockets on the front.

The first thing she finds is his wallet. She opens it up, sees his face on his license and wants to die. He's so painfully handsome. And he looks so horribly alive.

Nothing but a couple bucks and a few bunk credit cards.

Also in that pocket are his assorted fake I.D.s, a small flask of holy water, extra clip for his Colt, and his journal.

His journal. She gave that to him a month back, telling him he should keep one. He didn't get why they both needed a journal but she insisted that he try. She never once saw him write in it unless he was forced.

So she assumes she'll find mostly empty pages when she opens it but she's happily wrong when she does. First she sees the stack of pictures in the front inside pocket. Taking them out, she flips through them one at a time. They're all the pictures from the refrigerator at his house in Stanford. Mostly frozen shots of he and his brother growing up, there's also a few of Mary and John and one of all four of them. The last one he sees is the picture of Mary and Dean that she saw on Dean's nightstand before he left to train with Bobby.

All these memories Dean held in his heart, all of them good. He had that. She's so happy he had that, even if it never lasted.

Pulling that picture, Dean's clear favorite, out of the stack she sets it aside, planning on keeping it.

Lizzy then takes a look at the journal. On page one is Dean's name, some doodling of nothing much, and it reminds her of a bored high school kid's notebook. She smiles slightly, knowing that's her man. A kid at heart.

When she starts to flip through she mostly finds pages on monsters, ones they've hunted specifically, and each one is unfinished. He didn't have the attention span to finish a single one. He warned her this wasn't his thing. She should have listened.

She then flips to the next page and stops. His block-letter handwriting covers the page and then some yet it isn't about a monster or a demon.

_You passed out on me. Can't believe it. Not once have you done that but here we are, four days in and already we're that married couple that falls asleep without getting any nookie in. I'm so disappointed in us._

_Actually, I'm not. I'm not disappointed even a little bit. You earned a good night's sleep. I've never seen anyone do what you did today. While I followed you around like a lost, worthless puppy, taking orders and getting what you needed done, you took charge. You killed that ghoul, you showed me how to salt and burn a body in the middle of a city with nowhere to go, you dug and buried it with me, and you did all that before going back to the family it tormented and comforting them through a seriously terrible loss. _

_Never in my life have I felt that kind of pride in someone not named Sam. _

_You know I love you and why I married you… mostly. I think you're beautiful and kind and strong. And you know I just wanted legal rights to your body for the rest of our lives. But it's more than that. You're the best person I know. You're good through and through and I doubt you have the first clue of how true it is. Maybe that's why I'm here. To make sure you know you're so fucking awesome. Guess I found yet another calling in life, right?_

_I know we're doing some serious good out here, saving people and all, but I'm ready to head back to California and bring you with me. I know how hard it'll be for you, living in one place and not hunting all the time, but I think it'll be good. You deserve a rest. You've been at it for years. _

_We're going to be normal… relatively. We can hunt now and then around Stanford if anything kicks up and we'll keep our eyes open for Sammy, keep him safe. But I want so much more for you. I want to get a house together, move Sam there while he finishes up school. It'll take a while to save that kind of money but I can work overtime at the garage as much as possible and you can get a job doing… shit, I don't even know what you might want to do. I should probably ask you that. We'll save until we can get something small and then, when we do… I want a family. I want kids. I want to see you be a mom because I know you'll kick ass at it. I want it to be you and me and our rugrats running around and we're going to be happy. And yes, I just grew lady parts. Who the hell have I become?_

_Alright, I just rambled for about an hour in this thing and I'm pretty sure this isn't what it's supposed to be for. I blame you mostly, since you left me high and dry and bored. And I'm sure you'll tell me I'm not supposed to write this stuff in here the next time you check on my progress like some school teacher. Hey, maybe that's what you should do. School teacher. You'd be great at that. And, honestly, get you some black rimmed glasses and tight pencil skirt, maybe a ruler… my, my, Mrs. Winchester. I think I just found the inspiration to take care of myself tonight._

Lizzy really can't stop the laugh she lets out quietly after reading that entry. School teacher. Leave it to her husband to find a way to take a lovely, truly sweet moment and turn it into sex.

But then she remembers she won't ever get to fulfill that fantasy for him and the complete sorrow takes over her being. That would have been fun.

And having a life like the one they spoke of, like the one he wrote about, would have been so wonderful. They didn't talk much past heading back to Stanford and keeping close to Sam for obvious reasons. He never told her he wanted to buy her a house. And he never once mentioned that he wanted to have children with her.

Hand pressed to her mouth, she cries freely now. She can practically see it all. A small, three bedroom (if they were lucky) house in some suburban area. Green grass, blue with white trim, cozy. Dean would mow the law on Sundays and she'd have a garden out back. They'd have two kids, a boy that looked just like their handsome daddy and a little blonde-haired girl named Louise, after her sister and best friend.

"We would have been so happy," she says to herself as her tears fall, splashing on the page and making one of the words run. "Shit!" She pulls the journal to the side before wiping her eyes, not daring to ruin any little thing she has left of him. She could practically hear his voice, the low gravelly tone as he spoke these words. They're so very him.

She turns the page and finds another half-finished entry on ghosts and their sometimes ability to travel. He got most of it down but gave up on the ending. That's more like him. The rest it empty… and always will be.

Taking a second to control her emotional moment, Lizzy calms enough to keep digging. She finds a flask Bobby chose to give him. It's filled with bourbon. She sets that aside for herself. There's his toothbrush, his razor and shaving cream, a little jar of hair pomade (she used to make fun of him for that), deodorant, some laundry detergent he didn't use in their last trip, a large hunting knife, lock pick set, a couple box cutters, and the iPod she got for him with her last fraudulent credit card before getting rid of it.

She turns the iPod on and scrolls through. Mostly classic rock, some blues here and there, some more modern stuff like The Black Keys and Rival Sons… and one single playlist. It only has ten songs on it as she knows he had a hard enough time getting even a single song onto the piece of technology he was previously unaware of but by the name of it, Liz, it was about her.

Whole Lotta Love, Lady, Us and Them, Cherry Pie, No One Like You, Harvest Moon, You Really Got Me, Love Her Madly, Thank You, Fuck Her Gently.

She laughs when she reads the last song on the playlist. Lizzy knows he added this one just recently after the conversation they had over the merits of a good, hard fuck versus the loving, connected, meaningful fuck. It was a debate for a moment, Dean on the side of hard and Lizzy on the side of gentle, and by the end they flipped positions on the matter and agreed to see both as wonderful options.

He added that song because it reminded him of that conversation and of her.

Everything he did was either for her or for Sam. She's not sure she'll ever find some one that will honestly care about her that much again.

Picking up the iPod, she scrolls through the songs. She chooses Thank You as it's a favorite of both of them and presses play, putting in the earbuds that had been wrapped around the small player.

The song, quite beautiful with a message even more beautiful, plays through her head and she closes her eyes, her hand pressed to the open page of the journal. If she thinks hard enough, listens and feels the paper he wrote on, smells the t-shirt she's wearing, she can pretend he's there with her. The whiskey on her tongue from the flask, the scent of his skin, the sound of the music he'd choose when they had a few moments or were driving to their next case… it's so real it hurts. These were the little things that made being with Dean so perfect.

The hand that lands on her shoulder knocks her hard out of her revelry. Her hand flies to the large hunting knife, grabbing the handle hard at the same time she locks a hand around the wrist near her shoulder. She yanks the arm close and brings the knife to the throat of the intruder, eyes flying open to look up.

"What the fuck!?" Sam shouts and tries to wrench his arm away from her hold. Lizzy lets go and exhales hard.

"Holy shit, you scared me," she mutters, lowering her weapon without letting it go and taking her grip off of Sam. Sam stands tall and backs away.

"_I_ scared _you_!?" Sam yells at her angrily. "I thought you were gonna kill me!"

"Sorry," she sheepishly apologizes. "I should have warned you not to creep up on me."

"I didn't," he fires back. "I called you're name, like, three times. Damn it."

"I'm really sorry. I got…." She looks around her at all of Dean's belongings. She looks pathetic and knows it. "Lost. In all this."

"I can see that," Sam bitches as he huffs a few times, trying to shake off the scare she gave him. "You going through Dean's stuff?"

"Yeah," she answers, wiping her eyes and cheeks yet again.

"That's probably not a good idea," Sam tells her. "Why torture yourself like that?"

Lizzy can't respond. She just shrugs her shoulders.

"Come on," Sam says to her and holds out a hand. "Get up."

"Why?"

"Did you sleep today? At all?" he asks her while picking her up by the upper arm without her consent.

"No," she tells him, bringing the whiskey with her and taking a large gulp.

"Ah, you meant it when you said you were gonna drink all day," Sam comments. "I was hoping that was a joke."

"Nope," she quickly answers.

One look at her and he's severely worried. "Did Dean ask you to do anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"He always wanted me to go to school and be better than what we came out of," Sam explains himself. "So I know what Dean wants from me. I'm gonna go to school and finish. I'll be a lawyer like I always wanted because he wanted that for me more than _I_ wanted that for me."

"He sure did," she assures him.

"Well… what did he want you to do?"

Lizzy's face wrinkles in the telltale sign of pending sorrow.

"Ok, ok. Never mind," Sam says when he knows she'll just cry again. "Don't tell me, ok? Just think about what he asked you to do and focus on that."

"I can't," Lizzy's choked voice tells him, knowing he wanted her to move on, watch Sam, and live a life without him happily.

"You can. And you will. Because we owe that to Dean. Focus on what he asked you to do and don't fall into this too hard. The only thing getting me by right now is the fact that if I don't finish school Dean would want to kick my ass."

Lizzy nods and accepts this plan for herself. It's a good one. She needs to figure this out before she gives in to the depression fully. Dean would never want that for her.

"Can't I drink for today though?" Lizzy asks with a pitiful smile.

Without answering, Sam glances at her bottle in hand before he walks to the kitchenette. He grabs two glasses and walks for the couch. After folding it back up and replacing the cushions he sits down. "Come here."

Lizzy sits next to him and he takes the bottle. He pours a good amount of alcohol into each glass and hands her one.

"You can drink for today… as long as you let me join you," Sam gives his stipulation.

Nodding, Lizzy sits back and takes an enormous sip, wincing with the massive burn. They then remain like that until Lizzy finally falls asleep, or blacks out honestly.

Sam covers her with a blanket, grabs the very little left in the bottle, and heads for his room. Glancing at his books on the desk he scoffs, sitting on his bed and drinking down the very last of the whiskey. All the fears and uncertainties Lizzy's feeling are the exact same he's feeling. But he's got to fight it. He has to make Dean proud up there, just like his mom.

"Damn it, Dean," Sam sobs out, the sadness always seeming to win out. "Why did you have to go and do this?"


	50. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 13)

**One Month Later**

"You feeling any better today?" Sam yells to Lizzy in the living room.

"Not really," she admits. "Still fucking sick. Threw up first thing this morning… _again_. And I'm sure I'll throw up a few more times today… _again_."

"One more day of this and you should really go see someone," Sam tells her, backpack stuffed and over his shoulder. "It's been, what? Three days?"

"It'll go away. It's just a bug," she brushes off and watches him run around grabbing his stuff. "I made coffee." She holds out the already prepared travel mug for him as he walks by the couch where she's sitting. She's taken that duty over from Dean once she moved in with Sam for the time being, planning to get on her own feet at some point.

"Thanks," Sam smiles at her, the month living with her culminating into a quite comfortable situation. They've gotten into a routine by now. Sam gets ready for his early classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday while Lizzy stays home and researches his destiny, the living room turned into a study of sorts with several copies of ancient books Bobby sent her scattered about in stacks. In the afternoon Sam comes home, they eat an early dinner while she tells him what she's found if anything, and she heads out to the bar if she has a shift that night. On every Saturday night she works and most of the time Sam will show up, sip slowly on a few beers throughout the long and busy night, and make sure she's alright. He's only had to talk her out of a fit of sudden sorrow once while working. Not too bad.

And this Wednesday is no different. Sam has his classes and Lizzy has a shift later.

"I'll make something for dinner before I leave," Lizzy tells him as he gathers his keys and wallet. "You gonna be around?"

"Uh," he thinks for a second, turning to look at her while flipping his hair out of his eyes.

"You need a fucking haircut," Lizzy tells him, pulling a stack of bound papers into her lap, a copy of the infamous 'demon dictionary' of sorts that she and Bobby turn to quite often.

"Bite me," Sam returns quickly. "Yeah, I don't think I'm heading to the library today. I'll be back by three."

"I'll see you then," she tells him, head in the books already as he leaves, knowing she's invested and done talking anyways. She promised Dean to keep Sam safe. Damn it all, that's exactly what she's going to do.

* * *

Checking the clock again, Lizzy's stomach drops. It's a quarter until four. Sam's never this late… if late at all.

She sends out yet another text to him.

_Text me, Sam. You're never this late. Are you alright?_

Something in her tells her he's not. She can just feel it. Everything is… off. It's a dumb thought. Sam's a capable young man that brings holy water and salt with him everywhere. She's even minimally trained him on defensive moves if he's ever caught off guard. He should be fine, especially in the light of day… but where is he?

Her phone buzzes in her hand as she sits at the tiny table by the kitchenette, turkey burgers now cold set in front of her, and she whips the phone up.

_Sam Winchester Calling_.

"Where the hell are you?" she fires out immediately once she answers it.

"I… n't know…."

It's his voice for certain but it's buried in crackling and fuzz as he's cutting out.

"Sam!? Shit, are you ok!?" she asks with fear, already on her feet and grabbing her pre-packed emergency bag he knows nothing about in the hallway closet. Clothing, toiletries, and a boat-load of weapons, all prepared for whatever might come. She's been waiting for just about anything to happen with Sam's destiny being what it is.

"Kinda…. I'm not… alone."

"Who's with you?" she asks quickly, feeling like this call his coming through quite unexpectedly.

"Jake Tal… Ava Wilson… dy Gallagher…."

"Andy!?" Lizzy's voice panics as much as her whole body does, reaching for the keys to the Impala. She never unpacked the trunk. "You mean all the kids from our research? The ones we thought had demon blood in them?"

"All of us… alive still," Sam says it matter of fact. "Think… will cut out soon."

"Shit, what's around you?"

"Ghost town… old. Aband…."

"I need more," Lizzy tries to piece together, pausing at the doorway of Sam's apartment with closed eyes, thinking hard. "What's weird or unique around you?"

"What?" Sam's distant and static-coated voice asks. "Cutting… out…."

"Damn it!" Lizzy complains. "What stands out about the place!?"

"Windmill… old store fr…. Big bell… tree on it. An old tree, no leaves…."

And the line goes silent. Lizzy holds her breath, just hoping the line cut out for a second. "Sam!?" Nothing. "Come on… Sam!? Are you there!?" Still nothing.

She pulls the phone away from her ear and sees the call was ended. He must have lost the signal. She dials his number again but it doesn't even ring.

_The number you are trying to reach is out of service…._

"Oh, fuck me," Lizzy fears out and rushes out of the apartment. She jogs down the two flights and out to the parking lot while calling Bobby.

His phone rings twice.

"Fucking answer!"

"Liz?" she hears the calm and gruff voice she knows and loves, the sound a beacon of hope that she can find the help she needs to get Sam back.

"He's gone, Bobby," Lizzy says, fumbling with the keys and dropping them on the pavement. "Shit!"

"Who's gone?"

"Sam!" Lizzy explains, picking up the keys and unlocking the driver's side door. "He was late to get back from classes. He just called but I could barely hear him. Yellow Eyes took him."

"How do you know?"

"He's with Andy and Ava. And Jake I think, all the kids Yellow Eyes fucked with," Lizzy says with total alarm. "I have to get him back!"

"Ok, hold on a tick," Bobby says evenly. "You calm down and let's focus the right way. Losing your head ain't gonna do anybody any good, especially Sam."

He's right. Liz nods to herself and takes a very deep breath. Then another. And one more for good measure.

"You good?"

"Yeah, Bobby. I'm better. What do we do?" Lizzy sits behind the wheel and tries to keep her fears down enough to think straight. She's in Dean's car and Dean's brother is in trouble. She's can't let him down. She promised Dean she would look after Sam.

"Did he say where he is?"

"He doesn't know exactly. What I could get out of him is there's a windmill and abandoned store front. He mentioned a ghost town and there's a big bell with a tree on it. No leaves, just a tree…."

"A bell," Bobby repeats and she can hear him rifling through pages.

"You know the place!?" Lizzy asks very hopefully.

"Might," Bobby tells her. "There's a town called Cold Oak in my state. Supposed to be all kinds of haunted. Been there once outta curiosity… took pictures." He pauses. "I'm willing to bet that's the place."

"Ok, good start," she says, turning the key in the ignition and starting the engine.

"Get here as soon as you can and I'll come with you," Bobby says to her. "I'm not too far outta the way and I think backup would be smart."

"Thank you, Bobby," she says to him, relaxing just a touch as she pulls out of the lot and gets moving, hoping not to get pulled over on her way.

* * *

Sam's exhausted. He's been running from Jake for over an hour after getting his ass nearly beat to death by him. Physic powers suck compared to intense hulk strength. Sam lost that lottery.

After the dream in which Azazel let him in on why he's been creating a generation of powerful kids, he's filled with dread. And he's not willing to kill anyone in this sick game show the demon created so he's stuck here. Too bad Jake doesn't feel the same way.

And now, the one knife he's managed to find gone and his body too tired to put up much more of a fight, he's slinking in the shadows, listening for any sounds or people coming near him. He's horrified, not a trained hunter in the least, and he's thinking this is the end. He doesn't stand a chance against Jake.

"Sam!"

He knows for sure he heard that. The voice in the distance calling his name. It's Lizzy.

"Sam!"

"Sam! You here!?"

And Bobby. They came for him! Holy shit, they came for him!

"Lizzy!" Sam calls out in his spent voice, it barely loud enough to get their attention.

"Sam!? Where are you!?" Lizzy yells back to him, just making out his voice. She hefts her shotgun a little higher, ready to shoot anything that could come their way in such a creepy, dangerous place.

"Here," Sam says with a thankful smile, holding his side and limping towards her slowly. He waves once he's out of the shadows and he watches her face relax into a small smile.

"Thank fucking God," Lizzy says to him as she picks up her pace a little, marching for the clearly hurt man. It's then that she sees someone come out the shadows of the building behind Sam, old rusted knife in hand. "Shit. Sam! Watch out!"

What looks like Jake Talley from her research comes up behind Sam before he can turn around and stabs him in the back without ceremony or remorse.

"No!" Lizzy screams out, horrified as she watches the attack without being able to stop it. She sprints to him. "Sam! No!"

Bobby runs after Jake but the military man is too fast, dropping his weapon and speeding away before he can be caught.

Sam's knees buckle and Lizzy tries to catch him. His frame is too large and heavy for her and they drop to the ground, Sam falling forward onto her and Lizzy bringing her arms around him.

"Sam, hey. Say something, ok?" she asks of him, shaking his body a little to rouse him. He doesn't move, just leans limply against her. "Sam, come on. Look at me, huh? Can you look at me?"

He doesn't even lift his head from her shorter shoulder. When she brings her hands to his face and lifts it for him so she can look at him she smears his cheeks with red. So much blood on her hands from his back. This is really not good.

Sam's eyes roll as his head lolls to the side and she has to readjust him to keep him upright.

"No, no, no," she cries a little, already aware of what's happening. "I was supposed to keep you safe. You can't die, Sam. You can't… you're making me a liar."

When his eyes close and every ounce of his weight is on her she has to let him down onto the muddy ground gently, unable to handle him anymore. She kneels next to him and presses her hands into his chest, it no longer rising and falling as he's not breathing.

"Oh god," she sobs, pressing two fingers to the pulse point in his neck. Nothing. "Oh fuck. No." She lets go as Bobby walks back towards her, finding her crying over Sam's lifeless body. "I promised him. Damn it, I promised I'd keep Sam safe."

* * *

"You couldn't stop this, Lizzy," Bobby assures, crouching down next to her. "Not even Dean would have expected you to handle this one."

"But I promised," she sobs, Bobby pulling her in tight. "I lost them both. I fucking lost them…."

"I'm not hungry," Lizzy says seriously, still lost in her failure and her sorrow as she sits with Sam's dead body for the second day.

"I need you to eat, young lady," Karen says to her, dropping the sandwich she made her on the table next to where Lizzy's sat in an old wooden chair. She's been sitting vigil since they arrived with Sam's body in tow, not ready to deal with it all. She's been internally battling with something for days and can't bring herself to have Sam's hunter's funeral. Not yet.

"No," Lizzy answers, hollow eyes never leaving Sam's face.

"You get one more day," Karen warns, her hand on Lizzy shoulder lightly. "Then we need to give Sam a proper burial."

"Leave," Lizzy says sharply, pushing Karen's hand away.

Karen sighs. "I'm starting to think leaving you alone out here isn't all that good for you."

Clenching her jaw, Lizzy just hangs her head and closes her eyes. She can't handle this overbearing shit right now.

"Why don't you come inside…?"

"No."

"Just for a little bit, get a good night's sleep…."

"I don't need sleep!" Lizzy shouts and whips her head around to her. "I need Sam alive!"

Her face softens as Karen looks at her girl. "He's gone."

"And I fucked up!"

"You didn't do anything wrong, honey."

"Didn't I ask you to leave!?" Lizzy fires out, sick of hearing everyone try to logic Sam's death out for her.

Karen sighs, knowing there's nothing she can do for the young woman at this point, not with how devastated she is, and quietly leaves the warehouse behind her property.

Once she's gone, Lizzy closes her eyes and they spill over for the millionth time. "What the hell do I do here? I mean, seriously, what the hell do I do?"

She then looks at Sam, the man she failed so miserably, and she can't seem to except his death at all.

"I was supposed to look after you. I was supposed to make sure you were ok and safe. I promised Dean… I can't believe how badly I failed."

She sniffles.

"Your brother would kill me," she shakes her head. "God, he would be so disappointed in me. All he ever wanted was for you to be alive and happy and all I had to do was watch your ass and make sure _this_ didn't happen. That's it, simple as that. And now… I can't live with this mistake. I can't live with this, Sam. I let you down… I let Dean down."

The pain of it all pushes her off the edge. She's going to do it. Fuck this. She's going to make it right and do what she has to in order to honor Dean's wishes. She loves him too much still to let him down like this.

"You'll be fine, Sam," she tells him, getting up from her chair and snatching her keys from a tool bench by the door of the warehouse. "I'm sorry this had to happen. I'll make it right. I promise. Whatever it takes."

She leaves.

* * *

Box set with everything needed for the summoning spell, Lizzy walks out into the middle of the crossroads. She bends down with a small garden shovel and starts to dig, suddenly feeling sick. This was a bad idea, she knows that, but she's not about to stop now. She's made her decision. She's doing the right thing.

And the right thing is terrifying her.

Running to the side of the road when she can feel the nausea hit, she throws up into the overgrown weeds in the rural dirt road. What she's throwing up she doesn't know. She hasn't eaten in two days and has thrown up three times in that span. She's still sick, the bug Sam wanted her to check out obviously still running its course… or maybe she's just a nervous wreck.

Doesn't matter at this point anyways. Nothing really matters. Only Sam.

When done retching, she wipes her mouth with her sleeve and walks back to the middle of the crossroads. She finishes digging the hole and buries the box into it. She then stands up and waits.

It's quiet. She can hear crickets chirping and wind rustling leaves and she closes her eyes. The moment is so serene and calm. She absorbs it into her bones, hoping she can remember things like this in her doomed future.

"Never in a million years did I ever think I'd see _you_ here," a male voice says slickly and when Lizzy turns around a very handsome man in a tailored, dark gray suit stands there, his eyes burning red to let her know exactly what he is.

"Never thought in a million years I'd have to be here… but life's just fucking hilarious like that, isn't it?" she says, hands out to her sides hopelessly before dropping back down heavily with depression.

"So, what do I owe the pleasure?" the crossroads demon asks. "Why are you here, Elizabeth?"

She makes a face at the way he uses her full first name but lets it go. "I need you to bring Sam Winchester back to life."

"A favor like that'll cost you," he tells her, casually walking closer with his hands in his slacks pockets. "A lot."

"I'm aware," Lizzy nods. "Hunter rumors say that it'll cost me my soul in ten years. I'm willing to make that trade."

He laughs at her right away, the sound more light and airy than disturbing. It's genuine.

"What?" she wonders, not getting the joke.

"You're not getting ten years out of a deal," he denies her right away.

"Why not?"

"Because you're the great _Elizabeth_," he says to her patronizingly, using air quotes around her name. "No way do you get the usual treatment."

"_Great Elizabeth_?" she questions right away with that comment. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Huh…" the demons huffs with obvious bafflement.

"I don't get it," she says, fully confused. "What does that mean?"

The demon looks at her funny, trying to figure out why she's acting so out of the loop. When it hits him, that lightbulb finally sparking, he laughs even harder than before. "Oh wow!" he huffs while bent in half, hands on his knees, just a couple feet in front of her now. "Talk about my lucky day!"

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about!?" she panics with his display.

"Nothing, lovely," the demon tells her, straightening out and fixing his tie as he clearly avoids the information he almost spilled. "Don't you worry about a thing. Everything's coming to a close for you with this deal anyways, am I right?"

"Depends," Lizzy eyes him narrowly, now skeptical of everything.

"What I'm saying is, we all know who you are. You've killed enough of our kind to warrant a lovely spot in Hell for you… _today_."

"Today!?" Her eyes widen with utter fear.

"Yes ma'am," the demon tells her. "You want Sam alive then I need an even trade. You go right now and he's wakes up the second you're gone."

"That's not…."

"Fair?" the demon asks, finishing for her. "Neither was torturing all those demons you've run into. And exorcizing them. And using that knife we know you have to kill some of us while you were at it. But deals with devils aren't about fair. They're about investment."

"Investment in what?" Lizzy couldn't be more confused by this conversation.

"Our future," he just smiles. "So? Even trade?"

She starts to shake with fear. What the hell? She's not ready. "I…. um…."

"You what? Can't do it?" he asks her with fake surprise. "Fine, then no deal." He starts to walk away.

"Wait!" she yells to him.

"You won't make this deal, it's obvious." He waves a hand overhead at her and keeps walking, his back to her.

"Give me a year," she demands loudly, desperate for this to happen. "Just one year."

He pauses. When he turns around he walks right back to her quite quickly. She flinches when he reaches out to her, his hands on her hips. He slides them towards her middle and smiles slickly. "No year, darling. It's gonna have to be now or never." He takes one step back and keeps grinning.

"Why!?"

"I don't think you'll be wanting to give in so easily in a year," he explains cryptically. "Your life will be too different. I need a decision now."

Again unsure of his meaning, Lizzy can't answer. She's been too confused by nearly everything he's said to her. And she's too paralyzed by fear to formulate the answer she needs to give.

"Need an answer, girl. Or I'm leaving." He taps on his expensive watch. "Tick, tock, tick, tock…."

"Fine!" she says quickly, eyes closed. "I'll do it. It's a deal."

The evil grin on his triumphant face scares her to the core. He steps forward, grabs her face, and kisses her hard before she could change her mind. Deal sealed.

When the demon ends the kiss he opens his eyes and pauses for a moment, taking his hands off her jaw.

"Nice doing business with you, oh great Elizabeth," he giddily tells her while just an inch away from her, a hand pressed to her stomach once more. "And to think, all you had to do was call on that angel of yours. All you had to do was ask Castiel for help."

"Wait, what!?" Lizzy blurts out, eyes wide with sudden regret and total confusion.

He disappears without another word.

She looks around at the empty space, confused. Angel? _Her_ angel? _Castiel is real_?

"Shit, that wasn't a dream," she starts to realize all at once. "Oh my God… that was real. He's real…."

The howling of something big sounds out into the night air, cutting through her thoughts and ending her rambling. Eyes scanning around, she sees nothing.

"Castiel!?" she calls out, hoping he can somehow hear her. Wait, he told her to pray to him. Maybe she just has to pray. Clasping her hands together, Lizzy plans to do just that…

And then she hears the growling right behind her, the vicious rumble of something big and very close… too close to get away from….

* * *

Still groggy and horribly confused, Sam walks right up to the side door of Bobby's house. He's foggy and a little lost as to how he got there, but he knew the place right away when he opened his eyes in that warehouse. He watched Lizzy and Dean train, or beat the shit out of each other as he saw it, in there during his first visit. Why he was passed out on a table in there he has no clue but at least he knew he was on friendly territory.

Trying to sort it out in his head, Sam doesn't bother knocking. He just walks right into the Singer household.

"Hello?" he calls out into the space and shuts the door behind him. It's silent, no one seemingly around. Cautiously, getting a strange vibe in the house, he walks into the kitchen and can see Bobby standing behind his desk in the study. "Hey, Bobby," Sam casually greets.

"Sam?" Bobby very slowly asks, heart pumping a mile a minute when he sees the young man, the _dead_ young man, standing in his kitchen.

"Yeah," Sam answers without thinking, rubbing his back as he walks towards the older hunter. "Man, what the hell happened? Last thing I remember I was hiding from Jake at that abandoned town… and then I just woke up in the warehouse."

"That's… strange," Bobby responds, side stepping his desk and keeping his right hand out of view, his entire being on high alert.

"I know," Sam nods. "God… my back hurts… whoa!"

Sam's hands go up when Bobby pulls a silver knife from his desk drawer. He marches for Sam, arm raised in threat.

"Bobby! Stop!"

Instead, Bobby takes a swing with his weapon, barely missing Sam when the taller man jumps backwards.

"Bobby! Damn it!"

"What are you!?" Bobby growls, still advancing on Sam until they're in the kitchen, Sam against the counters with nowhere to go.

He keeps his hands out in surrender. "I'm… I'm Sam! What the hell are you doing!?"

"Sam's dead!" Bobby shouts, lunging and swinging again, Sam not as lucky this time.

"Fuck!" Sam shouts when the blade slices his arm. He pulls his forearm in and presses his hand to it. "Stop! What is happening here!?"

Bobby pauses his attack when he sees red blood on Sam's arm before he covers it. "Lemme see that."

"No!" Sam denies, turning away from Bobby while insanely confused by the attack on him.

"Now, Sam! Let me see it!" Bobby threatens, holding the knife at the ready once more.

"Fine, as long as you don't stab me!" Sam wheels and deals. Bobby nods in agreement and Sam shows him the slice, the red blood oozing from it. No sizzling skin, no burning flesh. Just a clean cut.

Bobby's face drops. He then looks at Sam in the eye. "You're not a zombie."

"Ah… no," Sam answers, wrinkled forehead.

"And you're not a revenant or a shifter," Bobby says when he knows it's true.

"Last I checked…" Sam huffs out.

"You're… what? You're just _alive_?" Bobby disbelieves.

Sam just stares with wide, horribly lost eyes.

"Christo." Bobby watches closely. Not a hint of black in his eyes.

"What?" Sam asks, not sure what Bobby just said.

But Bobby's suddenly nothing but thankful. Sure that he's human and no threat now, he pulls the boy in tightly, hugging him in with thankfulness.

"Ow," Sam complains when his back flares up.

Bobby pushes him away and turns the kid around, pulling up his shirt to see his wound.

"Buy me a drink first next time," Sam jests lightly, not understanding the gravity of the situation at all.

"I don't believe it," Bobby awes, Sam's wound a memory with just some darkened, bruised skin left behind. "I don't… how in the hell?"

"You gonna tell me what's happening here?" Sam asks of him as he turns back around and readjusts his shirt. When he sees Bobby's pale face he's even more confused. "Bobby, what…?"

The phone ringing interrupts them. As much as Bobby would love to ignore it for now he's aware that duty calls and someone could need him. Abandoning the conversation for a minute, which is fine because he's as confused as Sam is and needs a moment to sort it out, he picks up the phone. "Hello? Ah, Sheriff Mills…. What!?"

Sam's face drops. Clearly something bad is going on here.

"That… what the hell are you talking about?" Bobby questions, voice showing his shock and fear. "Are you sure…? You have to be absolutely sure…."

Helplessly watching as Bobby's face turns a shade of white he's never seen, Sam can tell this is bad.

"Karen! Karen get down here!" Bobby suddenly bellows before returning to the phone call. "Yeah, we'll come down. Jody, are you sure it's her because you have to be…? But she was just here…. I, I don't understand…."

"Bobby… Ah!" Karen enters the room, immediately screaming when she sees Sam up on two legs. Karen reaches for the holy water flask on an old table in the kitchen and opens it quickly.

"Oh, no I'm not…" Sam tries to get out but he's splashed in the face with holy water before he can. "Not a demon."

"What are you!?" she shouts, ignoring Bobby's phone call conversation.

"Why do you guys keep asking that!?" Sam yells back.

"Everyone shut up!" Bobby shouts out to them, his eyes hollow and devastated. When Karen and Sam look at him he's looking absolutely crushed, phone hung up. "Sam's Sam. I checked." Bobby steps forward and shows the cut on Sam's arm to Karen.

"How in the world…?" Karen starts to question.

"No idea. He just is." Bobby walks to his wife and holds onto her shoulders, squaring off with her. His eyes lower as his chin quivers a little with what he has to tell her. He barely understands himself.

"What is it?" Karen asks him, knowing it's bad.

"She's gone," Bobby cuts her off, his voice limp and lifeless.

"Who's gone, honey?"

"Jody called." His eyes fill up when it starts to register. "They found her… she's dead."

Karen knows right away but can't accept it. "Who's dead?"

Bobby hangs his head, unable to even speak her name. He presses a hand over his mouth for a second as he tries to understand what he's about to say. "They found her on Creek Road, middle of an intersection."

"What!?" Sam asks, everything collapsing around him. "Lizzy!?"

Bobby nods. "They need me to go identify her."

"Bobby, no," Karen starts to cry, in shock. "No. She can't be gone. It can't be her."

"Well, she ain't here," Bobby points out, letting her shoulders go to grab his keys on the kitchen counter.

"But… I don't…."

"I'll let you know when I get back," Bobby tells her. "I won't believe this until I see it."

"I'm coming with you," Karen tells him, walking with him.

"You don't wanna see this, Kare…."

"I refuse to believe it unless I see her myself. She wouldn't go get herself killed. She wouldn't do that to us," Karen determines and walks right through the door to the car.

Bobby knows he can't stop her. Instead he goes with it. He looks to Sam. "You sit tight. I'll, uh… we'll talk it all through once I figure out what's going on here."

"Bobby… she's not really dead, is she?" Sam asks, unable to accept this. First Dean, now Lizzy?

He can't answer. Instead, Bobby glances at Sam once more and leaves the house.

* * *

"Karen, you really shouldn't go in there with us," Jody says kindly, warning her far in advance. "It's… it's very hard to see."

"I need to see her," Karen says with stubbornness, walking to the morgue door with the sheriff and Bobby.

"I'm just trying to warn you…."

"I appreciate that."

Together the three people walk in. They surround the table with a human form on it, a sheet stained red through the middle over it. Jody waits a moment, giving the Singers a quick second to mentally prepare. When Bobby nods to Jody she pulls the sheet back just enough to reveal the body's face.

"No," Karen starts right away, sobbing when she see the face of the girl she's cared for and loved for years. That's her Lizzy right there, pale as a ghost and lifeless. "Oh God, Bobby. It's her."

Karen hides her face in Bobby's chest, having seen enough and not wanting that to be the lasting image of the bigger than life girl that brought so much frustration and total joy into her little world. Bobby pulls her tight and closes his eyes, not able to look as he lets the reality sink in. His girl is gone.

"I'm so sorry," Jody apologizes as she brings the sheet back up over the body.

Bobby's got some work to do now, knowing how weird and off this whole situation is. He wipes his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his flannel shirt and before looking down at Karen. "Honey, can you wait for me outside? I gotta talk to Jody for a minute."

"Bobby, our girl," Karen says to him, looking up with the saddest of eyes.

"I know, Kare. I know," he says, kissing her forehead. "But you don't wanna hear this. Go out there, take a breather. I'll be there in a couple minutes, I promise."

Karen hugs him hard one more time, head angled away from the table, before she walks for the door, crying the entire way.

Bobby turns to Jody once the door shuts and they're alone.

"Anything you need you know you have it," Jody reminds him. "I know you're into some… heavy stuff. So was Lizzy. Whatever I can do to help…."

"How'd she die?" Bobby questions, cutting her off and sniffling once.

"From the looks of it? Animal attack. Something big, too."

"Animal?" Bobby asks, surprised.

"We've had some coyotes going after small dogs lately… and Mrs. Harris on Jefferson Street mentioned seeing a bobcat in her back yard last week, but other than that… nothing. And we don't have anything around here that can do what this animal did to Lizzy, at least not that I'm aware of."

Curious and needing to figure this all out, Bobby lifts the sheet all the way.

"No, Bobby don't…" Jody tries to stop him but can't. "Do that. Damn."

Bobby inhales hard and it gets caught in his chest. She's a mess. Her chest is shredded by long, deep claw marks. Her neck down to mid stomach is absolutely destroyed, her insides no longer inside.

"You don't need to look at that," Jody tell him and pulls the sheet out of his hands and back over Lizzy's form.

Bobby stands there and thinks for a second. There's only a couple of things that would do such damage. And it isn't an animal. "Was her heart missing?"

Jody's face drops. "Why do you ask _that_?"

"Just tell me!" Bobby asks, desperate for answers.

"Don't think so. We won't know for sure until the official autopsy is done but Graham said he thought everything is there… somewhere," Jody assures. "Which makes no sense if it's an animal attack…."

Closing his eyes, Bobby's getting a clear picture of what happened. "She was found at the intersection of Creek Road and Farmhill Way you said?"

"Yes… where are you going?" Jody asks when he abruptly turns around and leaves the morgue, looking quite driven.

* * *

Parking his car a ways back, Bobby walks towards the center of the intersection. In his heart he already knows what he's going to find. He just has to be sure. If he's wrong then the search for answers and revenge starts. If he's right… then there's not a damn thing he can do to help her now.

When he stands in the middle of the two roads doing his best to ignore the patch of red-stained dirt right next to him, he looks around. At the edge of the unpaved way he can see some yarrow growing, the flower a vibrant yellow. Another bad sign.

Taking a knee, he gets down to the ground and starts digging with his hands. Just about six inches down he hits something. He pulls it out of the ground and recognizes it right away. It's an old cigar box from his study. He used to keep pens and other knickknack in it.

Bobby plops down on his ass, the dirt under him cold and unforgiving. This is it. She summoned a fucking demon and made a deal for Sam's life. The tears spring up in his eyes as he knows where she is already.

She's in Hell. And he'll never get her out.

Bobby opens the box and looks through it. Among everything he finds yarrow flowers, he knew he'd find those.

And then he spies the fake FBI badge, Lizzy's face looking right back at him.

One look at her brown eyes and he's done.

"Why would you do that you stupid, stupid girl?" he says to the picture. "How do I tell Karen this!? How!? Do you even know what you've done…?"

* * *

"Hello, great one."

The voice chills her to the bone when she hears it. It's slimy, evil, and she already knows it belongs to something horrible beyond her nightmares.

Swallowing hard, Lizzy ventures a peek to the side, where the voice came from. There stands a tall, impressively imposing man. He's in a suit, expensive and tailored, and the grin on his lips a snarl that sends shivers down her spine despite the heat surrounding her.

He scares her to her core instantly.

Lizzy tries to move, tugging and pulling her limbs to flee as instinct tells her that's what she has to do right now, but she doesn't move an inch from her reclined place. Looking down at herself she realizes the actual trouble she's in for the first time.

When that black, hideous dog leapt out of the brush at the crossroad and lunged for her, she was scared. Horrified, really. It tore at her flesh, ripped her to shreds, and she felt every single tug and bite and claw… the pain was excruciating as the evil thing dragged her down to her promised destination.

But she wasn't as terrified as she is right now. Something about this man, his voice, his confidence while in the most deplorable, desolate, and hopeless place in existence is beyond frightening.

And Lizzy can't get away. She's strapped down, thick, wide leather straps around her naked torso, each wrist and ankle cuffed in place, another strap around her forehead and one last one over her chin, covering her mouth. She recognizes some of the symbols carved into the leather. They're part of the devil's trap sigil she knows all too well. But why would she be held down with leather straps meant to keep demons in line? She's not a demon.

"It's quite the thrill to see you here in my domain," his smarmy voice explains as he slowly paces around the rack she's on, it tilted upright somewhat so she doesn't have to lift her locked-in head to watch him closely, her eyes never leaving him.

His hands are casually in his pockets, walking as if nothing important or scary is happening right now.

"Now, I was sure it was to be Romeo that made it here," the man tells her, wagging his finger at her. "It was always supposed to be him. But you, my lovely dear, make one hell of an acceptable exception."

She tries to speak but the leather over her mouth makes her words nothing but a muffled mess.

"Don't bother," he tells her, pulling his suit jacket off slowly with no rush. "I know what you're about to ask. Who am I? Why am I here? Who's Romeo? It's all semantics, dear. You… you are here. You got yourself sent here and I hope the deal you made is worth it." He folds his jacket neatly and places it on a table Lizzy just now sees.

On it are items, many she knows and some she doesn't, that are all scaring her senseless with the look of them. She's painfully aware of what's about to happen.

"So… I have some work to do," the man tells her, his voice lowering with carnal excitement as he rolls up the sleeves of his crisp white button down shirt. "And you're not going to like it much, I promise you that."

Lizzy once more tries to speak but once more it's muffled.

"Save your breath," he tells her, pulling his tie loose and unbuttoning the top two shirt buttons. He then picks up the shining, extremely sharp looking classic razor blade one would find in an old, turn of the century barber shop. "Unless you want to say uncle right now."

The way he turns sharply to look at her, eyes alit with excitement, makes her go still and silent. She's stuck here. She can't fight. She can't get loose. This is it.

The man walks to her slowly, licking his lips once. "I just need you to say you want to get down from there and we'll be done before we even start."

Her eyebrows wrinkled with confusion, she just looks up at him.

"Mm, you see," he starts, leaning down with a hand on the rack next to her head. He gets inches from her face. "I can make you a deal."

Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"I can see you learn from your mistakes, young lady. You're now quite sour on deals and I can appreciate that," he snarls. "It's not a deal to leave Hell. You'll never leave here again, not under my watch, not until you're what I need you to be. You've been given to me. I own you now and, hm, I like you. Very much."

Now her eyes widen as the tears start to form, the sheer terror flooding her senses.

"I'm going to carve you up, my dear," he promises to her. "I'm going to carve and twist and mold you into a new animal… unless you want to do the carving."

Her expression shows the utter bafflement.

"You take this blade," he shines it in front of her face. "And you take my place. I give you souls of the weak, the spineless, the pathetic, and the damned… and you do the torturing."

Her entire body begins to shake with the horrific idea of it.

"You off the rack… if you put souls on," he tells her. "What do you say?"

With that he pulls the leather strap away from her mouth, allowing her to speak.

Lizzy takes one big inhale, the air sour with sulfur, heat, and hate, and she looks at the man next to her. "You're a demon?"

"Mm, well… some would say I'm _the_ demon." The creepy smile he returns with, one of pride, churns her stomach. He leans an elbow into the wooden rack, he hand pressed to his cheek suavely as he grins.

"And I'm yours now?" she asks.

"All mine, my dear," he tells her, a hand combing through her hair as she flinches with the contact.

"Then I should know your name," she says, delaying it all and getting a lay of her new land. Hunting has made her able to focus even in the most horrifying positions, taking that energy and aiming it towards making sure she's aware of as much as she can be in order to handle the situation.

"To you? Mm, I'm thinking Master works well," he tells her, taking the razor and turning it sideways before trailing it lightly down the skin of her stomach, not cutting. He just wants the presence of the weapon known and the danger of it felt.

"What do others call you?"

"Alistair."

She's heard the name before. She knows he's high on that demon food chain and his power is nothing to balk at.

"Aw, I'm flattered," Alistair smirks as he watches her expression change. "I can tell you've heard of me. Now, answer my question. You want down?"

Lizzy looks at him while thinking. Of course she wants down. But she'd have to become the hideous, horrid thing that he is in order to do so.

One hard look into his cold, dead eyes and she has her answer. Lizzy spits right in his face.

Alistair backs up a step with shock on his face.

"Fuck you," Lizzy fires out, knowing how much worse she's already made it for herself.

"Oh, my dear Elizabeth! Oh!" Alistair cheers with surprised excitement as he pulls a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wipes his face. "You are so lively, so full of anger and piss. Mm. I love it!"

He walks back to her, ready to begin with the glee of a child opening their birthday presents. He looks at her fingers, the skin rough and worn with a hard life.

"You're going to be awfully fun to _break_," he gruffly whispers in her ear as he slips his impossibly sharp razor blade under her index finger nail, twisting to loosen and pull, prying it off her finger.

With gritted teeth, she keeps her lips closed when the pained scream gets caught in her throat. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Let it out, Elizabeth," Alistair says calmly, doing the same to her middle finger and she still doesn't scream. "Keeping in that kind of pain, mm. No. It makes it harder on you and less fun for me."

Attacking her ring finger the same, pressing that razor blade into her flesh all too easily. She still won't scream for him.

"That's fine, my dear. Impressive," he tells her. "But I want this to start with a bang. Slow and steady can work later."

Alistair folds up and pockets his razor. He then takes a single fingertip and touches her bare lower abdomen. Immediately she can feel the fire start as her skin singes where it's been touched by him.

"What… what the hell?" Lizzy asks, shaking in her binds the pain strikes hot, hard, and fast. It bowls her over and she can't help but fight violently against the leather straps. Her voice bellows out as she feels it start to take over her entire stomach, her skin charring outward in a larger and larger circle from where he touched her. "Ah! No! NO!"

"Now there it is," Alistair says with relish, closing his lids and taking in the sound of her anguished voice. "The music my ears have been waiting for." He laughs a little to himself, her voice heightening as the fire spreads over her body, inch by slow inch burning it away to nothing but ash as she lives through it all. "You two are going to be quite the fun for me."

* * *

**Super packed Chapter. Hope it didn't move too fast to be clear.**

**Question: Is Sunday my best bet for updating? I've noticed better traffic numbers on chapters published on Sundays so if that means it's convenient for everyone I'll try to stick with Sunday. Let me know if you care either way! Thank you!**


	51. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 14)

"Oh… God…."

Lizzy lays back on the big cushy couch. There's a box by the front door of the small yet cozy two bedroom home and it'll stay there for now. They can put the white, department store-purchased crib together later.

For now, they're busy.

"Dean, oh," Lizzy moans, her eyes closed as one hand reaches down to this head between her legs and combs through is dirty blonde short hair. "So fucking good at that."

"Watch your mouth," Dean quickly says before returning his mouth to her clit.

Lizzy lifts her head and looks down at him over the small swell of her four months pregnant stomach and he winks at her.

"She can't hear me, idiot," Lizzy pants out, defending her potty-mouth.

"Soon enough," Dean responds, never stopping. While she continues to moan out her pleasure, he slides his hands lightly over her skin, up her outer thighs and to her hips. He doesn't stop until he has both palms outstretched over her growing stomach, the small bump just enough to remind Lizzy every day of what's growing inside of her… and of their beautiful little future.

"Whatever… just keep going, mm," she buzzes with enjoyment.

"I want more," Dean tells her, his hand taking over for his mouth. As he massages her just right he kneels between her legs and reaches for the button and fly of his jeans, all while admiring her form. "Damn it, there's just something about you like this."

"Didn't know you were into chubby chicks," she laughs at him and his odd love of her while pregnant. "If I did I would have let myself go a long time ago."

"You're not chubby, sweetheart," he reminds and smiles while giving up on her pleasure for just a moment in order to get his clothing off. "You're… incubating."

"And growing every day," she scoffs while watching him take off his t-shirt, making him just as naked as she is.

"Gotta make room for little Mary in there," Dean smirks, cocking an eyebrow as the name debate continues, even now.

"You mean Louise?" Lizzy corrects, pulling him down over her.

"Nope, I mean Mary," he says, kissing her.

"I know you love your mother and all…."

"Not now," Dean says and presses his lips to hers again to get her to shut up.

"Fair… enough…" she manages to say and goes with it, feeling him line himself up and slowly push into her. "Oh I love it. So much."

"I love how horny you are lately," Dean grins wide before burying his head in her neck, kissing her skin lightly while moving his hips into her over and over.

"Ugh, I can't stop," she half complains, half moans. "Need it all the time."

"I'm very ok with that," Dean tells her into her ear, making her smile when she can hear the grin still on his face.

"Yeah, because you have a major pregnant kink," Lizzy states as her breathing picks up. She moans again as he sits back on his heels without pulling out.

"I know," he says to her, his hands back onto her stomach. "Didn't know about it until now. You're just… God, you're so hot like this."

Lizzy can feel the blush running across her cheeks at that.

"There's only one thing I like more than a hot pregnant chick."

"What's that?" Lizzy flirts right back up to him, eyes locking.

Dean stares at her funny for a quick second. "A dead pregnant chick."

The seriousness in his tone throws her off, along with the odd words. "What?"

She watches Dean's eyes go black as the pain in her abdomen pierces her through and through.

"You heard me," his flat voice responds and she screams out in sheer pain, sweat breaking out on her hot skin immediately.

When Lizzy looks down she sees the pool of blood seeping out of her where his hands are no longer on her stomach. They're plunged deep inside of her stomach instead.

"No! Dean! The baby!" she starts to shout when she realizes what's happening.

"You don't get a happy ending," Dean explains, pulling his hands out of her, lifting them for her to see the deep red blood dripping from his fingers. "You get blood. You get pain and misery. And that's it."

"Stop it!" she cries out, everything crashing down on her yet again. She knows this isn't reality in that moment, knowing Dean would never be dumb enough to allow himself to be possessed after her training him, and she can't do this anymore. "Alistair, stop!"

The entire scene in front of her disappears, snapping back into the usual rack-strapped, too hot, torture driven world she's grown far too used to by now.

"Please…."

"My dear, what is this?" Alistair acts completely surprised by her broken, sobbing reaction to his torture techniques. "We don't cry like little girls, do we?" Alistair leans over her face to get nose to nose. "Or are we crying _for_ little girls, hm?"

"I can't," Lizzy very weakly says within her weeping. This last torture technique, the glimpse of what could have been but can't ever be, has put her over the edge after all this time of unrelenting brutality of the mind and body. "Please, I'm done."

"What does that mean, Elizabeth?" Alistair rolls his eyes, walking to his station as he looks his tools over, trying to choose.

"I'm done. I can't… please, please," she begs, hating her own voice as she can feel every ounce of resolve and fight in her just leak away. She's tried for so long, so long she has no idea. She couldn't count the days, but once more having to see the-what-could-have-been is killing her. She can't do it. She can't look at Dean's smiling face one more time only to have it ripped away. She can't have impossible futures shown to her and then shattered by blood and pain. And she can't deal with the mental, physical, and emotional toll the decades have taken out on her. "Make it stop, Alistair. I can't… do this…."

The way the demon turns slowly, staring at her with an almost softened expression makes her shiver with confused fear. He has affection in his eyes. What the hell does it mean when a demon looks at someone with kindness and possibly love?

"I have been patient," he calmly states, walking closer to her until he's next to her strapped down head. "I have been… down right _virtuous_ through all this. And that is _not_ my specialty," he keeps speaking softly to her, his hand combing through her sweat-matted hair. "I knew it was only a matter of time but I had no idea you'd hold out for damn near _forty_ _years_."

"Forty…?" Lizzy questions, brain a fog of torture.

"Yes, my dear," he tells her, kissing her cheek as she squirms away from him, the contact abhorrent. "You lasted almost forty years with me. That's true strength. Most don't make it anywhere near ten so I applaud your tenacity, Elizabeth."

He snaps his fingers and the rack is gone. For the first time in decades Lizzy is standing on her own two feet, clothed in the same Zeppelin t-shirt and old jeans she died in. And there's a razor in her hand.

She knows that gleaming piece of metal all too well. She's felt the sharp edge of it every day in her Hell tour but not once until now has she felt the handle of it. It was Alistair's favorite weapon.

"My gift to my new student," he grins unstoppably as he nods to the blade. "And all you have to do is use it."

He snaps his fingers and there's a new form on the rack she occupied for what felt like forever.

When the woman's eyes meet Alistair's she inhales sharp, eyes like golf balls. "No… oh, no! _No_!"

She uselessly fights the bindings but she's trapped there, knowing her fate.

"Relax," Alistair rolls his eyes, bored by her fear. "I'm not going to touch you."

The woman freezes with this surprising information. "You're not?"

"No," he laughs a little. "I'm not going to do anything to you."

The woman, baffled look on her face, relaxes only slightly with that information.

"She is," Alistair nods to Lizzy

She can see the woman seize up with fear at that and the confusion never leaves her expression.

Lizzy isn't intimidating like her former master. She's standing with a hunched back, eyes hollow and empty, and there's no drive whatsoever in her body or mind and it shows. She looks completely beat down and broken to the core.

"Come on, my dear," Alistair says, hands on her shoulders and pushing her until she's standing right next to the rack and the terrified, naked woman on it.

"Please, don't…" the woman begs, tears in her eyes.

She wishes she could cry with what she's about to do but she can't. She has nothing left in her to give. No tears, no effort, no anything.

"Elizabeth the Great, I took you off that rack," Alistair impatiently reminds her. "You know how deals work. You're here after all."

He picks up her arm and tightens her grip on the razor for her.

"Here we go," he cheers her on calmly, holding hard and helping her bring her heavy arm closer.

"What… no!" the woman cries out, the razor inching closer and closer to her side. "Don't! Please don't!"

"Just a little closer, Elizabeth," Alistair commends quietly into her ear from behind her, Lizzy's eyes watching as the blade touches skin. "You can do this, my dear. All you have to do is shed a little blood. It'll be easier after that."

Closing her eyes, the pathetic weeping pleads from the woman on the rack filling her ears, Lizzy presses in. She can hear the woman scream with pain as she breaks skin, Lizzy's eyes spilling over with shame, horror, and complete relief all at once.

As a single drop of blood drips from the woman's skin and onto the rack under her, there's a massive white light that bursts through the dark, dreary surroundings.

"What!?" Alistair is heard, his voice sounding almost panicked for the first time ever.

Lizzy can't see him. It's too bright and she keeps her eyes closed. When the loud, high-pitched sound permeates the hot, oppressive air around her she lets out a yell, the pain a new kind of pain. She crouches onto the floor, balling up and hiding from the assault if she can.

"You're too late!" Alistair cackles with laughter. "You're wasting your time!"

There's a struggle all around her, the sounds of fighting, blows being landed, voices screaming when stuck down, and she's never been more confused.

After what feels like hours there's a comforting, warm, loving feeling that comes through her as she feels a hand being placed on her upper back, over the left shoulder blade. These feelings, goodness at its very pinnacle, seep right into her core and she's not afraid suddenly. She can tell she's being cared for, consoled… and she's completely forgotten what that feels like until this moment.

As soon as the hand is felt at her back everything explodes around her, the loud noise reverberating in her chest and bursting her ears…

And then nothing.

The inhale she makes, hard and struggled, is the only sound she can hear now. She coughs a few times, her throat drier than dry, and her lungs feel like they're inflating for the first time in centuries. She huffs a few times, coughs some more, and catches her breath.

It's deadly silent aside from any sound she makes herself. And she's lying down. On what feels like hard wood.

The rack.

"No," Lizzy laments, coughing again with the feeling of gargling glass when she speaks. "Alistair!?" she shouts into the darkness. There's no reply. "You promised! Alis…." She erupts in more coughing, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

Her hand! It's not strapped down! She moves her limbs, all free to move… in the confines of the box she's clearly in.

Panic of a new kind hits right then. She checks her pockets instinctually and finds a lighter. She pulls it out, flicks it open, and fires it up.

She gasps when she sees the wooden boards just inches above her. She's in a wooden box, not on the rack.

She closes the lighter, knowing she has precious little air if she's buried like she's starting to think she is. No need to burn it away. Lizzy's lays there for just a brief moment, thinking quickly. She has to get out. But the box is deathly silent. She has to be underground.

Why would she be buried alive? Is this Alistair's trick? What would be the point? He's done so much worse.

One last deep breath and Lizzy knows what she has to do. She's suddenly thinking about one of her favorite movies, Kill Bill. If Beatrix Kiddo can get out of her own coffin then fuck it, so can Lizzy.

She pushes at the corners above her. The one on the right gives way slightly, letting dirt in a little and she knows she's in for a hell of a fight if she keeps going. Lizzy takes a deep, huge breath, and goes for it.

She shoves with all her might, the top flimsy and opening easily enough. She pushes and pushes, the dirt displacing and tumbling into the coffin rapidly the more she pushes. Eventually the whole thing caves in and she has to move fast. She claws and fights, pulling inch by inch until she thinks her time is up, lungs burning with need to be used.

Her hand feels something soft. Grass. And above that nothing, it's the air. She works harder, pushing every last ounce of energy she has into her movements.

Hand planted in the grass, she hoists herself up and into the midday sun, taking a huge breath and panting with need for oxygen. When she's getting the air she needs a little burst of energy hits and she's able to haul herself up and out of the hole in the ground, immediately laying on her back with her eyes closed in the sunshine.

Sunshine. Holy shit. She's basking in it as she catches her breath. It's warm, burning ever so slightly yet in a good way, and it's beautiful.

"This can't be a trick," Lizzy says to herself as he absorbs the light, the feel of grass under her, the smell of dirt and clear air. It's all too much. It's all too real. When she was in Hell she could always know, deep down, when something wasn't real. It was always lacking something… but nothing around her is lacking right now.

This is real. She's out.

"Oh God," she starts to tear up. "Oh my God…."

"Stand up."

She looks up into the sunlight to see who is speaking but she can't make out who it is with the brightness. She sees a figure, reaching out to her, feels it grab her hand, and she's on her feet immediately.

When face to face and adjusted to the bright daylight, she gets a look at who it is, a face she hasn't seen in decades. "It's… it's you."

"You should have prayed for me," his angry face and even angrier tone tells her. "That was all you needed to do."

"Castiel?" she asks, seeing the man just as she did in her dream all those years ago. Trench coat, blue tie all twisted around, messy dark hair… he hasn't changed or aged.

"I told you that if you needed me you should pray to me!" Castiel gets fired up and yells at her. "I could have prevented all of this!"

Lizzy shakes her hand and closes her eyes. She's getting yelled at? "I thought you were just a dream. I didn't know if you…." A horrifying thought occurs. "Wait, is this a dream too?"

"This is very much real, I assure you," he coolly tells her as he holds his side, a small winch of pain in his expression. "I lost a lot of brothers and sisters trying to get to you."

"Brothers and sisters?"

"Other angels." He sighs and stands up taller. "Why would you make that deal? Why would you do that?"

"I… uh, I…." She can't remember. Why was she in Hell again?

"I know how you felt about Dean, I know," Castiel explains. "I am well aware of your bond, but this? You're soul? You should have let Sam Winchester die! Or asked for help!"

"I… I'm so confused…." Her knees waver once and she drops onto the grass, her vision tunneling suddenly. She can feel her grip on consciousness weaken by the second. "I'm… not…. I'm gonna…." She collapses right there, exhaustion winning over, and everything blacks out.

* * *

Comfort.

That is not something she is used to. For decades it's been discomfort in every possible way and to every single extreme. But this feels damn good.

And shockingly, it feels real.

Inhaling deeply, Lizzy can feel the familiar bed under her, the old worn and soft sheets around her, and the smell of the Singer household. She already knows where she is. She's home.

Opening her eyes, Lizzy sits up slowly, every part of her still tired but rested enough to move. Peering around she sees she's alone, the sun shining bright and voices heard downstairs.

Bobby and Karen!

She jumps out of bed, now wearing an old t-shirt and some shorts. She doesn't want to know how she got changed when she knows nothing of how she even got here, so she shoves the odd thought aside. Bolting out of the room, Lizzy runs down the stairs and into the kitchen. Standing around are three people. The Singers are speaking with Castiel.

"What the fuck?" Lizzy asks, so confused as to why no one is trying to stab the supposed angel in the face yet. That's the standard reaction for hunters to inhuman things.

"Lizzy!" Karen shouts happily as Bobby also turns to look at her. They both rush to her when they see her awake and well. Before she can blink they've got her sandwiched between them, both nearly crushing her with their embrace. "Oh, sweetie!"

"It's good to see you, Lizzy," Bobby says, his voice choked as he says what he can to express his thankfulness to see the girl he thought was gone forever.

As Karen kisses her forehead she sighs and bites back tears. "It's good to see you guys, too," Lizzy struggles out, the love they show her more than she's felt in so damn long. "I missed you guys so much."

"It's been a terrible four months," Karen tells her, holding her face before kissing her cheek.

"Four months?" Lizzy asks, highly confused.

"On Earth you were gone for just four months," Castiel's voice cuts in and lets her know. The three huddled up people turn to look at him. "It felt like much more to you… but it was four months."

"Jesus," Lizzy awes, looking at him with total surprise. "So, what? It's… September? 2008?"

"Yes."

She nods, letting that register with her. "So… I didn't miss my birthday. Cool." She huffs, looking to lighten things when she can. The angel in the room isn't having it.

"I have already explained most everything to Bobby and Karen," Castiel tells her plainly. "They were curious when I appeared here with you in my arms, unconscious and dirty."

"But alive," Karen cries quietly, arm around Lizzy's shoulders.

"That'll save me some time," Lizzy nods. "So what, you guys are all peachy-friendly with an angel now?"

"No," Bobby tells her, very concerned with the unheard-of being still. "But we're…. giving the benefit of the doubt. For now. You know, since he saved you and all."

Lizzy shakes her head and looks over to the angel. "Castiel… what the hell happened?"

He looks at her, eyes set as he cocks his head to the right. "I fought my way into the depths of Hell to grip you tight and deliver you from perdition."

Her mind flashes back to the feeling of a hand on her back while in Hell. "That was you?" she asks, reaching a hand over her shoulder to the rough skin under her shirt where he grabbed her, knowing she has to check out her back afterwards. "You came down to Hell? For me?"

"Yes. When I found out where you were… my garrison laid siege to Hell. To get you. No exceptions and failure not an option."

"Uh… thanks?"

"That _is_ customary to say when someone does something nice for you," Castiel comments evenly.

"But what I don't get is… why me?"

"Because I couldn't let that happen to you," the angel tells her immediately. "I couldn't just let you rot there or… turn into something you were never meant to be," Castiel explains quickly, still upset that she ever went to Hell in the first place. "You should have prayed for my help. I _told_ you…."

"I thought you were a fucked up dream I had while I was in mourning," Lizzy defends. "Dean just died. Everything was a mess. I had no idea you were actually real."

Castiel bites his tongue, knowing she's telling the truth. "I just…" he starts, looking away briefly. "I wish you never had to experience that."

"You and I both, dude."

"You are… important. To me. I feel I have failed you." Castiel looks away, shame in his body language.

"I made my own decisions. This wasn't your fault," Lizzy just shrugs, knowing it all is her fault.

Castiel's sorry eyes lock onto her with inner pain. "I just wish I could take away that experience. For both of you."

She looks at him funny. "Both of who?" Lizzy questions, completely confused by the statement.

"You and your son," Castiel plainly states.

Eyebrows nearly at her hairline, Lizzy gives him a wide-eyed look. "My son?!"

"Yes."

"I don't have a son."

"You will," Castiel assures. Lizzy shakes her head and he realizes now that she has no idea. "You don't know."

"Know what!?"

"Elizabeth, you are to deliver a son in four months."

"What the fuck are you…?" she starts to call him crazy when she feels a hand on her stomach. She looks at Karen with total confusion as to why she's touching her but when Lizzy looks downward her heart explodes. "What the fuck!?" she shouts out, taking a step back away from the pregnant stomach she sees but it comes with her. Her eyes shoot to Castiel. "What the fuck is that!?"

When her frightened eyes search around the room with alarm, Bobby places a hand on her shoulder to ground her.

"Why do I look like this!?" she asks up to him but Bobby has no words to answer back with. "Bobby!?"

Castiel sighs frustrated and walks closer to her. When his hands land on her larger and still growing belly he closes his eyes to focus in hard. "He is well from what I can see, which is a miracle." Lids lifting Castiel steps back. "His physical health is optimal, as well as yours. The lasting effects of Hell are still unseen however. We shall just have to watch him closely as he ages."

Her breaths come quick and shallow, panic striking hard. "But I… I haven't… I don't understand."

"Sweetheart?" Karen says kindly a she brings Lizzy to one of the chairs in the study. "Sit down a moment." She helps Lizzy into the chair before bringing another one over in front of Lizzy, scooting close to sit in it and holding both of Lizzy's hands tightly. "Did you really not know?"

"No! How could I!?" she nearly shouts, wanting to sob on the floor at this point.

"Ok, that's ok," Karen assures sweetly. She runs a hand down Lizzy's hair lovingly. "You must have only been about a month in when you… left." She nearly stumbles over the word 'left'. "You probably couldn't even tell yet."

"I was sick," Lizzy recalls suddenly. "I might have already been… I was throwing up for days. Sam was gonna make me see a doctor if the stomach bug never went away… oh, God! Sam!" Her eyes fly up to Bobby. "Is he ok!?"

"He's fine," Bobby tell her.

"Nothing's come for him while I was gone?" she keeps freaking out. "He's alive?"

"And safe as ever. He's on his way here, actually. Told him you were here and he's dying to see you."

"You told him I was alive?" she fires out the question.

"Yes."

"And he believed you!?" she disbelieves.

"He… he's willing to," Bobby nods. "He's still really green. He so far believes what we tell him because after everything with his brother and being taken by Azazel… what choice does he have? Everything we've said has turned out to be true."

"Fair. Ok," Lizzy nods, looking down at her stomach. She places her hands on her belly slowly, almost scared to touch it. When she does she closes her eyes. She's pregnant. She's going to be a mother. She will be solely responsible for a little boy in this scary ass world.

And a very terrifying thought dawns on her then. Eyes on Castiel hard, she looks pathetically frightened.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Is it…?" The tears start to fall. "It is Dean's… right? For sure?"

His confusion in the question makes his forehead furrow. "Who else would that child belong to?"

She hangs her head, letting out a long, shaky breath as tears fall onto her t-shirt covered stomach. "Hell was… Oh God. I just… I don't know. It could be… some _thing_ else's." She starts to cry full out.

And they all get it. Hell was hell and with what happened down there she cannot be sure it's Dean's.

"I don't know how it works down there… if what happened could lead to…" she sniffles while looking at her belly. "Please… tell me it's Dean's. It has to be his."

Castiel's heart hurts for her, a feeling he's certainly not used to. "That child is the product of Dean and your love for each other. Of that I am completely sure."

"Thank you," she weeps easily, hunched over and hugging her stomach. "Oh God, thank you." She rocks forward and back while sobbing, Castiel watching oddly, unsure of what to do.

"Castiel, why don't you give us some time here?" Bobby asks as his wife holds Lizzy tightly through her fit of sorrow. "She's had a lot and we humans ain't exactly as unbreakable as you guys."

"I… I understand," Castiel nods once. "Please, if she needs anything, you will pray for me? She seems to forget that is an option."

"Oh, we're gonna need you," Bobby assures, clapping the angel on the shoulder. "And thank you. I don't know much about angels and, honestly, until you just kinda popped in here I thought you were all myth with no fact, but I appreciate what you did here. You gave us our girl back. We owe you everything."

The angel takes a second to simply look at Lizzy, crying yet alive, here and not in Hell. She may have pushed over that first domino by shedding blood in Hell as she is quite the righteous being, and there may now be a whole load of issues to now deal with since the first seal broke… but she's back. He saved her. And she's his girl too, whether she's aware of it or not.

"You owe me nothing." He disappears.

* * *

Exhaustion has never claimed Elizabeth harder than it has over the past day. All she can manage to do is sleep. With having dug herself out of her own grave with her bare hands followed by the toll Hell's memories are taking on her and the discovery of her pending and truly unexpected motherhood… she's been through the proverbial ringer in every way possible.

And now she's gasping for air, breathing hard and struggled as she wakes up drenched in sweat and eyes wide with fear. She saw it, like it was all still real. She saw Alistair, the razor in her own hand… and the crying woman as she cut into her flesh. Even if all she ever got to make was one couple inch long slice, it was more than enough to guilt her for the rest of her life. She's ashamed. She's damaged. All the shit she saw and the horror she felt, that one moment when she agreed to be a monster is worse than all the other memories.

Clutching her chest, she catches her breath. Eyes closed to settle herself, she regrets that immediately. When she closes her eyes she sees too much these days. So far it's been Alistair's menacing grin, the look of her body as it's burnt or fileted or torn, that first and only cut into that poor sobbing soul, or it's even the snarling face of the truly blood-freezing hellhound that took her down in the first place.

But not yet, not since she's been back, has it been Dean that she sees.

She can see him as all she can hear is her own breathing. It's silent, air rushing in and out of her lungs, but Lizzy sees the love of her life crystal clear, his image never losing anything in her mind's eye. He's broken, sitting in that corner of the motel room with blood smeared on his mouth and chin. The way his sad, lost, and truly pained eyes peer up at her as he lifts his head in the dim lighting of the room, the green irises no longer sparkling when they lock onto her, it crushes her.

Her lids fly up and her eyes see her room at the Singer house once more. And her heart hurts.

"Oh God," she whispers to herself, a hand over her eyes as she wells up. When will she ever stop crying? When will she literally run dry?

She presses a hand to her stomach, not at all accustomed to the idea of being knocked up still.

"I really need you," she sobs out, fear for her future and absolute sadness over her loss ruling her entire being. "Dean… damn it. I love you so much. And… what the fuck!? What is happening?" She looks down at her stomach. "How the fuck do I do this without you?"

She lets herself lose it in her sorrow, delving into that place she was too horrified to go when Dean first died. She had seriously thought about it back then too. She wanted to switch with him, let him be alive and look after his own brother and have his life that meant something as he worked so damn hard for it. But she couldn't. She knew that even if a crossroads deal was made that Dean would never agree with that choice. He'd harbor hate for her if she gave her life for his.

He told her what he wanted from her. So she tried to give it, gave her soul for it… but it's left her horribly damaged and about to be a single mother.

Everything is such a mess.

Then she feels it. It was quick, nothing large or epic about it, but it was certainly there. She felt it.

"Oh my God," she whispers softly to herself, her hand pressing to her stomach a little harder, right where she felt it. The tiny thump. The reminder that this is real, this is happening, and someone is going to need her, all of her and at her best very soon.

She's speechless as she waits and hopes for another little movement, anything. That was amazing. And it proves to her this is happening whether she's ready or not. It reminds her that she's truly needed in this world still.

More importantly, it reminds her that no matter what, Dean's still here and she'll always have a little piece of him with her for the rest of her life. That's the greatest gift she could have asked for.

Their child. Dean would be so happy and so out of his mind excited.

She needs to pick herself up and keep fighting, always keep fighting, because if she doesn't then there will be one little boy in the world that won't have a chance and one man up in Heaven that'll be so thoroughly disappointed in her that she'd never be able to live with herself.

_Aw, come on, Noonan! It that all you got? Bush-league! You're better than that, sweetheart!_

She laughs to herself when she can hear his words in her ears like it was all just yesterday that he said them. He used to egg her on while training, calling her out when she'd show weakness or lack of skill. It was rare but it happened. And he'd always point it out with total glee. She can even hear the smile in his roughed up voice echoing in her head.

So, she listens to it. She _is_ better than this. Time to own up to it all, every mistake she's made from Hell to procreation. She made her bed.

Once dressed in an old, used to be big on her Van Halen t-shirt and some sweatpants that just fit her growing form, Lizzy heads down the stairs.

She hears his voice far before she sees him. The last she laid eyes on Sam he was dead, pale and still but he's clearly alive and well now… and chatting actively with Bobby and Karen in the kitchen as they fill him in on everything. Maybe her deal was worth it after all. Sam's still here. She didn't let Dean down.

"So she's… with Dean's…?" Sam's voice stutters as he processes the news.

"That's what Castiel said and, as much as I'm still a bit cautious of the guy, it seems he's on our side," Bobby replies, explaining his view of things. "He did bring her back in the first place. The guy yanked her ass out of the fire so he can't be all that bad in my eyes."

"But… why!?" Sam asks, sounding so much older than when she left. "I mean, I love Lizzy and I'm not counting the gift horse's teeth here but… why her?"

"We don't know…."

"He didn't say?"

"He vaguely said a couple things," Karen lets it be known. "He said he couldn't let her rot down there and become something she wasn't meant to be."

"Meaning?"

"I have a theory based on some old as dirt books I got," Bobby throws out there. "Hell is not just a punishment for those that were bad people or those that made deals with devils. Lucifer is said to have created the first demons himself, torturing either the early humans that did wrong or the fallen angels exiled by God until their souls became twisted, black and evil…."

"You think Hell's just a demon factory?" Sam questions, shock in his tone.

"It's a theory," Bobby reminds. "But it would help explain what Castiel meant by becoming something else."

Sam blows out a hard breath and Lizzy holds her sadness as she hides around the corner. She's knows Bobby's right. That's exactly what they were doing down in hell. She could feel her humanity leaving her every day a little more… and she's knows that if Castiel didn't come when he did she would have become exactly the horrible evil they fight off every day.

"Can you imagine… if that happened…?" Sam tries to think of the worst case but he can't picture Lizzy becoming that.

"No," Karen darkly says, her chair scraping as she gets out of her seat, uncomfortable with that thought.

"We ain't talking about that," Bobby tells him, changing the subject. "The point is Lizzy's here. We got our girl back. Past that, I don't need to know nothing."

"But it doesn't make sense," Sam tries to figure it out again, the whole 'why' of it all nagging him. "An entire garrison of angels busts into hell, some dying… to save _one person_."

"You're over thinking it," Bobby says, an edge to his tone as the more he looks at it the more it stinks and the more he worries about his girl.

"Am I!? Angels, plural, died to go get Lizzy," Sam's voice heightens. "Doesn't that concern anyone else!? I mean, she made a friggin' deal. It was her choice. This was on her. Unless something big that we don't know about is happening… why bother bringing her back at all?"

"We have no clue," Lizzy speaks up as she walks to the doorway between the study and kitchen, looking at Sam with watery eyes and giving up on her eaves dropping. She appreciates his curiosity and his need to understand, unable to let it go. He cares about her. "But right now we might have other issues to deal with."

Sam's head whips around to face her while sitting at the kitchen table, beer in his hand. The second he sees her he's on his feet, bottle forgotten on the table, and he's rushing towards her.

Now, after a month of living together, Lizzy and Sam had become friendlier. They spoke some nights of Dean and the funny quirks he had or how they missed the fact that if he was reading or cooking he'd generally be humming some Zeppelin song or another. Some nights they never said a word to the other, living in companionable silence as they researched Azazel and his plan or at least Lizzy did while Sam studied for school. They even drank together a couple times, leaving the comfort and safety of their apartment to try and be normal and around people. It was never easy but it was getting easier. They found a comfort in the other and quickly bonded out of necessity.

But she didn't expect this.

Sam scoops her up and hugs her tightly, his arms under hers and locking around her back. She can hear him huff a couple harsh breaths and she knows he's giving in to the moment, his emotions rolling with it all.

Lifted off her feet, she brings her arms around his neck and hugs back, feeling relief and some odd form of solace to be near him again. He's the proof that she doesn't regret her deal.

"I'm so happy you're ok," Sam whispers as she can tell he's crying, his chin on her shoulder as he won't let her down yet.

"I'm not ok," she admits quietly, a hand to the back of his head lovingly. "I'm just alive."

"Then I'm so happy you're alive," he fixes it and puts her down. When he backs up just a little bit he looks her over, immediately glued to her protruding stomach, just big enough to make it clear as day that she's expecting. "Oh my God," he awes, chin quivering as he smiles through the tears. He places his hands on either side of her belly, somehow knowing he's not overstepping his level of comfort with her. He lets out an awkward sound, something between a laugh of excitement and a sob of fear and sadness.

Lizzy's face wrinkles up, the moment so sweet and a lot like what she hopes would have been Dean's reaction. Shock and some fear, but happiness overall.

Placing her hands over his, she looks up at the man that's just been thrown for a total loop. "He's still here, Sam," she tells him, knowing he'll understand who she means. "He's not gone."

Sam nods and lets the sobbing start. "He'd be… so excited."

"I know," Lizzy cries right along. "He would've been a really good dad."

"He was," Sam assures, knowing who his real father was.

"Thank you for coming," Lizzy lets go and walks right into him, this time bringing her arms around his middle and pressing her cheek to his sweatshirt.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," Sam swears, his cheek on the top of her head as he realizes just how much this girl has grown on him and how much he cares about her.

Somehow, when everything seems horribly wrong, something finally feels ok.


	52. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 15)

Her leg is bouncing a mile a minute, the rate matching the speed of her heartbeat and her racing mind, as they sit in the small waiting room for far too long.

"Why are they taking so long?" Lizzy asks, her head once more looking over at the front desk, no sign of her name being called anytime soon.

"Relax," Sam smiles lightly, looking at her with calm and collected patience despite how uncomfortable he is. "The doctor's probably just running late."

"I just want to get this over with," she sighs, looking down at her knotted hands while overly jittery as she waits in the Woman's Health Center of Palo Alto.

"I know," Sam tells her, patting her knee to get her leg to stop jumping. "Just remember the story and you'll be fine. We'll get the little guy everything he needs and make sure he's as healthy as we already know he is. This'll be easy."

"Yeah…." She sighs and starts to calm… until her back shoots upright. "What if they take an ultrasound?"

"They _will_ take an ultrasound," Sam lets her know, looking at her golf ball sized eyes with narrowed ones.

"What if… what if he's all… evil looking or something?"

"What!?" Sam laughs at the idea.

"What if he has horns or something super jacked up?" she very irrationally worries. "Hell… it was…."

"You already told me some of it. I know," Sam assures, not looking to open that horrid can of worms right now.

"So what if he's deformed or something… from being down there?"

Sam just smiles at her with the insanity coming from her mouth. "Now you're just being crazy."

"Hey!" she gets mad and points her finger in his face. "Don't tell me I'm crazy. I'm pretty sure this is the first pregnancy to go to _and_ return from Hell. You don't fucking know what's happening in there!"

Sam puts his hands out in surrender. "Fair enough. But I'll put money on him being just fine. And human looking. Since he's yours and Dean's."

She swallows hard with the sound of her husband's name. Once more she sits back and looks down at her hands. "Dean should be here."

"I know," Sam tells her, the hole in their hearts wider each day with his absence. Sam brings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in. He then changes the subject. "Speaking of Dean and money, I tracked down his savings account."

"Oh yeah?" Lizzy questions without care.

"Yeah… and because you are legally married I think we can get you access to the account post mortem. It'll come in handy since we have to get the baby so much stuff."

"God, I have nothing for him," she hangs her head, and looks at her stomach sadly.

"We still have four months," Sam reminds.

"That's not that long," she tells him.

"But it's long enough," Sam assures. "We'll get everything he needs and more. That money Dean socked away will go pretty far."

Lizzy looks to him with surprise. "We?"

He gets quiet for a moment. "Well, yeah. I want to help."

She smiles sullenly up at him before dropping her head sideways onto his shoulder. "I'd rather have Dean instead of his money."

"You and me both…."

"Lizzy?"

They both look up to see a nurse calling her in.

"Right here," she quietly says and stands up, Sam no moving from his seat.

"Well… ok. I'll see you in a bit," he smiles at her reassuringly.

"What?" she asks with a little panic as she sharply turns to him. "You're not coming in?"

"To the gynecological exam you're about to have? _No_," Sam huffs. "Absolutely not."

Her face drops, the worry, fear, and loneliness hitting her at once. "Yeah… I, I guess that makes sense." He watches her swallow hard. "That'd be awkward, right?"

"So awkward," he agrees. "You'll be fine. I'll see you after."

She nods shakily, still looking so terrified it hurts him to his core.

"Don't look at me like that," Sam warns her.

Her eyes blink and they glaze over with water. "Like what?"

He can't let her do this alone. He just can't. "I don't want to be in there when… your… _stuff_ is out."

"You won't see anything," she swears to him with a spark of hope in her voice.

"Lizzy…" Sam complains.

"You don't have to look, I promise."

He sighs heavily, already knowing he's conceded as much as he doesn't want to. "Fine," he rolls his eyes loudly as he stands up.

"Thank you," she says, choked up a little with the relief. She then grabs his forearm to make sure he won't change his mind and starts walking for the nurse with him.

"So, everything seems just fine, Lizzy," Doctor Condon tells her, backing away and lowering the paper sheet covering her lower half.

"Seriously!?" Lizzy asks, relieved to hear the news.

"Yes," she answers her. "I don't like that you waited so long to come in to see a doctor, but extenuating circumstances do exist."

"I didn't trust third world medical care," she shrugs with a lie.

"Well, the Peace Core should do more for its members but I guess that's just something out of our control, hm?" the doctor smiles, pulling over a new cart.

"Sam?" Lizzy looks over her shoulder to the corner. The tall and highly uncomfortable man is sitting on a stool, looking at the blank wall. "You can look now."

"Not saying I want to," Sam returns with as he swivels in his stool to look at her.

The doctor gives a sad smile to the man. "It's good of you to come in with her, Sam," she says kindly, firing up the monitor on the cart. "I know it's uncomfortable enough for most _husbands_ to come in here."

"I can see how that'd be the case," Sam comments quickly, getting the doctor to laugh.

"You're a damn good brother-in-law," she tells him and grabs a clear jelly. She applies it to Lizzy's growing stomach and smiles. "So, mom… want to take a look?"

Lizzy falters. She's terrified to take a look. That baby could be all kinds of messed up and damaged from Hell. It could be deformed, frightening, abnormal, have horns…. "Yes," she lies completely.

Her hand shoots out to her side, aimed right at Sam when she starts to shake a little. He can see the tremor in her fingers and knows this is why she wanted him here. When the going got tough she wanted support. He's happy to give it.

Sam stands up and walks to her. Staying close, his hand weaves into hers, fingers locked tightly and squeezing once to let her know he's there.

"Just give me a couple minutes here…." The doctor gets to work, using the ultrasound to find a good peek at her son, and Lizzy's heart nearly explodes with fear.

"You're ok," Sam tells her in a very hushed voice, his free arm coming around her shoulders as she vibrates with worry. He hates seeing her like this. She's always been the picture of strength and confidence. This is new to him.

"There we go," Doctor Condon says happily and both Sam and Lizzy look to the monitor.

Right there in front of them is the image of a perfectly well, perfectly healthy looking baby.

Stunned silence hits the room as they both study the picture. A little arm raised, one pulled in, each with tiny little hands and even smaller fingers. Two legs, two equally little feet. And a face with eyes, lips, and small button nose. And no horns.

"Oh… my god," Lizzy whispers out, looking at the sweet face of her unborn child. It wasn't real, not really, not until now. She couldn't grasp the idea that she was pregnant and she would be a mom before now. But this moment, this experience… she's most definitely a mom.

That's all she needed. Lizzy just needed to see her baby. It's all so real it hurts.

And Dean's not there.

The baby moves a little, an arm twitching once quickly, and Lizzy nearly loses it. "Oh…."

"Waving hi to mom," Doctor Condon jokes.

In near shock, Lizzy looks up at Sam. His eyes haven't left the image. He himself is in sheer disbelief. Fascinated by the screen, he can't look away even if he was paid to. That's his nephew, his family. Right when he had none left he's given a new member, one that he'll love every second of his life and he already knows it. That's his big brother's child. That's his blood.

"So… do you want to know?" Doctor Condon asks them. "I have a clear view. I know what it is."

"It's a boy," Lizzy tells her. "Isn't it?"

She smiles. "Sure is. You're having a little boy, Lizzy."

Lizzy nods, the silent tears starting to make their way, slowly rolling down her cheeks. A little boy. Dean's little boy.

"I want him here to see this so bad," Lizzy admits as she crumbles, leaning her head into Sam's side as she gives in to how much she's missed Dean today of all days.

And Sam can't answer. His eyes still on the monitor he pulls her in tightly to his hip, the surreal aspect of everything truly smacking him in the face.

Dean's missing it all and this would be the very thing Dean lived for. He was made for this, for being a family man, a father.

His big brother never let him down, not once in his life… and now it's Sam's turn. He'll never let Lizzy down and he'll be everything that little boy lost. He'll never want for anything and he'll never know what it's like to not have a male presence in his life.

Sam owes his brother. This is how he'll pay him back.

* * *

**Four Months Later**

"Can you move it over, like, another foot?"

Sam huffs out a tired breath but does as she asks anyways, pushing the heavy dresser-turned-changing table over the twelve inches she wants. "There?"

"Yes, thank you," she smiles slightly before sighing. "I'm sorry. I'm being a total pain in the ass."

"No, not at all," Sam sarcastically answers but grins at her despite it as he walks over to stand next to her. They survey the room and feel satisfied. "Looks good."

"Looks _great_," Lizzy nods, her spirits actually higher than she would have guessed they'd be lately. "I like this place." She looks up at him with hope that he still agrees.

"Me too," he nods absently. "I'm glad we found it."

"Well, Bobby found it," she adds in, not taking credit from him. "Thank God he came out to help set us up."

"No kidding," Sam responds with hands on his hips.

After that doctor's appointment that changed both of their lives, Sam dove in head first. He told Lizzy he wanted to be there for her son, be a solid and positive influence in his life and pick up whatever slack Dean's passing left. After crying yet again for the offer, Lizzy agreed but only if they would live in California and near his campus. She wasn't uprooting his life. She would only accept his help if he continued to help himself.

Their agreement was perfect, really.

And now here they are, a three bedroom townhouse not too far from campus, in an affordable area, and within a good school district just in case they ended up there for the long haul. Lizzy has no illusions, eventually Sam will find a girl and settle down, leaving her and her son to their own devices as he should, but she keeps that thought far off in the distance.

For now, it's just nice to know she has someone kind to lean on.

"Are you sure you're ok with the baby's room being this close to yours?" Lizzy tries one last time. "You share a wall with him. He's going to be crying all hours of the night. You have school and work…."

"And moving into your room across the hall isn't gonna stop a tiny pair of lungs from waking me up. There's nothing you can do about it. Babies cry."

She smiles sadly. "You just work so hard. I don't want to make you even more exhausted."

"Eh, I'll survive." Sam leans into her once, nudging her a little.

She smiles at him before groaning, her hand to the left side of her stomach. "Little jerk."

"Kicking again?" Sam asks, knowing already that the little boy that won't seem to take a day off has been pummeling her for a while now.

"He never stops," she complains, grabbing his hand and pressing it into her stomach like always. "Relentless."

"That's Dean's kid alright," Sam huffs quietly, able to speak more freely about their loss these days now that he's had months to process it and a new life to distract him.

"Yeah…." She wistfully answers, her tone far off as she watches the movement on the side of the stomach, visible even through her shirt.

"You're gonna pop soon," Sam tells her, her due date just around the corner. "Better get the rest of the baby stuff out of the car and set up quickly, huh?"

"What, in case I go right now!?" Lizzy disbelieves.

"Never know," Sam laughs at her, leaving for the front door. "You _are_ a house."

"Fucking jackass," Lizzy mutters as he leaves, looking at her belly still. Any day now it's all going to be different. She'll be a mom, have a human life depending on her for everything.

And she'll be alone.

Thank God for Sam.

When a hand gently presses to her shoulder she just grins. "That was quick."

"What was quick?"

The gravel in the low, serious tone shocks her and she jumps. Sharply turning she sees the familiar angel standing in the doorway.

"Dude!" she yells at him. "Fuck you, man!"

"My intentions weren't to startle you," Castiel assures her as he steps closer to her.

"What the hell are you doing here? Out of nowhere?" she angrily asks.

"It felt imperative that I check in on you."

"I haven't seen you in months!" she gets upset. "After everything, after all the weird shit that happened… you just disappear without a fucking word!?"

Castiel gets annoyed by her. "I do understand that you are emotional and highly uncomfortable these days and I hope this is the cause of your rudeness. I have been busy…."

"With?" she has to know.

"Heaven is at _war_. I have been fighting almost constantly. You have no idea…." Castiel stops and holds his words, remembering that he's always thought it best to keep her in the dark whenever possible. It's all too much and the more she knows the more stress she feels and right now she doesn't deserve to be burdened like that. She's had enough in her life. He softens up as he tells her, "I think it best you watch how you speak to me. And please trust that I have your best interests in mind… even if I've seemed absent."

Lizzy grits her teeth hard and stops.

"How are you, Elizabeth?" Castiel asks, his entire being calming when he has a moment to really look at her. Nine months pregnant, the little girl he's looked after and adored for so long is playing her part in it all and she's beautiful. Just beautiful.

"I'm… fucking miserable," she laughs a little, a hand pressing to her back. "Everything hurts, my back is killing me, my ankles are elephant-huge, I peed, like, five minutes ago and I have to go again…."

"All temporary," Castiel reminds and gives her a small smile.

"I know," she nods. "But it's getting old."

"I can understand that," he nods once. "It has always seemed that, though it is something quite remarkable, that bearing a child is terribly difficult."

"Amen, angel," Lizzy emphatically responds. "This shit is ridiculous…."

"Lizzy!?" she hears Sam's voice panic when he obviously heard her talking to someone in the apartment. "Lizzy!?"

"Relax!" she calls back as she hears items tumbling to the ground before there are rushing footsteps quickly coming their way. "Sam, it's fine!"

Sam comes to a scrambled stop in the hallway when he sees a man standing there with Lizzy. He's never seen him before and he has no idea how he got in.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel greets seriously and nods once.

Sam's face wrinkles with the recognition in the stranger's eyes, like the mysterious man suddenly in their home knows him.

"Dude, put the knife down," Lizzy laughs lightly, reaching forward to take the blade from Sam. He's been trained a little but only a little. The poor kid doesn't even know how to hold a knife right when in a panic yet. "He's cool."

"How'd he get in here?" Sam asks, fear in his voice as he eyes the trench coat wearing man.

"I flew," Castiel simply answers.

"Flew!?" Sam's wide orbs look ready to pop.

"Sam, take it down a little," Lizzy asks, grabbing his arm comfortingly. "This is Castiel." Sam just looks at her without getting it. "The angel that yanked my ass outta the pit."

And now there's a new shock and fright in Sam's face but it's a totally different one. With a small step back as it all sinks in, Sam blinks a few times. His fists relax and he then steps closer to Castiel and holds his hand out to him. "H-hello. Uh… Castiel, it, it's an honor to meet you."

He's flustered and it makes Castiel grin a little. He shakes Sam's hand, closing over it with his free one. "It's good to finally meet you also, Sam… the boy with the demon blood."

Sam's brow wrinkles as his focus snaps to Lizzy, guilt in his expression.

"Uh, excuse me," she shakes her head a little, eyes switching rapidly between the two of them. "Demon blood?"

"Yes. That is what Sam's unfulfilled destiny is all about," Castiel tells her as he lets go of Sam's hand. "Sam did not tell you?"

"No… Sam did _not_ tell me," she caustically answers, eyes shooting death rays at Sam.

"I didn't think it was important…" Sam tries to explain.

"Demon blood's not important!?"

"You were gone!" Sam shouts at her. "When I was taken to that ghost town for the Celebrity Death Match, Azazel told me what it was that had been giving me visions… what was giving all his children powers." He avoids telling her that it was Bobby that first warned him of the truth about his past. He doesn't need to get the kind hunter in trouble.

"It was demon blood?" Lizzy asks, not ready to believe what she's hearing.

"That's what he was doing on all of our sixth month birthdays. He was infecting us. Mom saw what was happening and… she didn't survive."

"Jesus," Lizzy's face turns white. "You should have told me. You should have let me know…."

"When!?" Sam gets angry that she's even upset with him. "After you stupidly sold your soul for me or once you got back from years in Hell… while pregnant?"

This shuts Lizzy up, a near impossible task.

"Sam was doing the right thing," Castiel explains. "I may not be comfortable with… the darkness within Sam and his being around you so much… but sparing you the stress of this knowledge while with child and dealing with the fallout of Hell's effect on you was a very kind and smart thing to choose to do. Do not get mad at him."

Jaw clenched and fists tight by her sides, Lizzy takes a deep breath and deals with the knowledge Sam has demonic blood in him. He's corrupt. What this could lead to….

"Anything else you two want to share with me right now?" she asks with an acidic tone. "I mean, you two seem awfully chill with not telling me important things."

"No," Sam says, insulted that she'd think he'd do any worse. "I hated keeping that from you. That's all there is."

She nods and then looks to Castiel, the angel being suspiciously quiet. "How about you, feathers? Seems like a lot of shit went down while I was gone…."

"Nothing you should concern yourself over." He lies straight up.

"Nothing?" Lizzy doubts. "You don't even want to mention all the omens and buttloads of demons suddenly walking the Earth?"

Castiel just stares at her and makes it clear he's not going to answer her.

"So you're not talking, not even after pulling me from Hell for reasons you've yet to be truthful about…."

"I wanted to save you…."

"Why me!?" she gets upset. "Huh? Why bother with me!? There were tons of damned souls down there…."

"You're different," Castiel fires out in an angry voice. "You are not like the other souls down there."

"But… why?" she keeps prying, looking at him with absolute confusion.

Castiel takes a deep breath and sighs, not having been ready for this when he popped in. He had other business to attend to concerning her but he should have known better. Even as a child she was so inquisitive, always asking why and how and how come. She's still a lot like that girl, though jaded and hidden under pain and experience. "That is hard to explain."

"Well, I got the time," she shrugs before crossing her arms and waiting for answers.

"No, actually… you don't," he tells her and the second he says it Lizzy's hands come down onto her stomach.

"Ooh," she awes quietly, her face wrinkling in pain. "Ow."

"You alright?" Sam asks her, suddenly not at all interested in what the angel has to say. He steps closer to her, reaching out for her before she waves him off.

"Fine. I can handle it," he says easily, straightening out when the pain subsides. "Shit. I, uh… holy fuck, I think that was a contraction." She huffs a little laugh of surprise.

"Really!?" Sam asks with huge eyes, fear and excitement making him twitchy and nervous suddenly. "Like, contractions for real? Like, you're in labor?"

"I don't know, it was only one," Lizzy says watching Sam's body language go into hyper drive.

"Ok, ok… um, we should head out then, right?" Sam asks, heading for her bedroom to grab her go bag.

"Dude, calm down," Lizzy tells him with a smile, liking seeing him like this. It's sweet in an irritating way. "It was one maybe contraction…."

"Not maybe," Castiel assures her. "This is why I am here. You are to deliver Judah soon."

Lizzy pauses, as well as Sam, and she looks up at him funny. "Excuse me… but who is _Judah_?"

"Your son," Castiel explains simply.

"Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't realize you were his father and had naming rights," she laughs at him with disdain and heads for the kitchen.

"I have no naming rights," Castiel assures her, following her with Sam hot on her heels. "But my Father does."

"How do you figure?" she laughs again, reaching into the refrigerator and digging through the vegetable drawer.

"Your son is… very important. He's been prophesized about for centuries." He pauses and swallows hard, watching her pull out a plastic bag of jalapenos and a can of pineapple juice. He has to tell her. He should have before now. "Your son is to be the Second Coming of my father on this Earth."

She just looks at him with a serious face, no expression on it as she lets the idea reach her brain, before busting out a true, deep laugh at him.

"Why do you laugh?" Castiel asks, turning to see that at least Sam seems to be concerned by this. He's pale and sweating.

"That's not gonna happen," she tells him, never sounding surer of anything in her life.

"I assure you that it will."

"Well, I assure you that it _won't_," she grins sarcastically as she picks out a raw jalapeno and leans her back into the edge of the kitchen counter, staring at him. She then takes a big bite and chews.

"What are you doing?" Sam interjects when he watches her. Even with the news of massive and ridiculous burden in their faces he needs to check on her first and foremost.

"I'm getting this party started," she says, sipping the pineapple juice. "I'm over the whole pregnancy thing and my mom always swore by spicy food and pineapple juice to induce labor, especially when my brother was a week overdue."

Sam makes a face, learning something new.

"This pregnancy thing sucks. I say bring on the little guy." She then looks at Castiel. "That won't be named _Judah_. That's a stupid fucking name."

"It means praised one. And he _will_ be praised," Castiel explains quickly.

"Yeah, by his mother," Lizzy counters quickly, taking another bite of the spicy food with no reaction. "And I have a name for him already. You won't change it."

"I assumed you'd be this stubborn," Castiel sighs. "I shall choose my battles with you wisely."

"You're smarter than you look, Cassie-boy," Lizzy winks at him and drinks her juice.

"But that child will be the key to saving this world," Castiel lays it all out there for her. "He will bring my Father's presence and keep the innocent and faithful safe during the big battle."

"I'm sure he will," she answers, sarcasm all over her words.

"You should be more concerned."

"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't give a shit what you say," Lizzy tells him, the anger back as she eats more pepper. "This is _my_ son. He's already been through enough shit to last a lifetime and he's not even born yet. My life has been total crap and I'm not letting him ever know what that feels like."

"I fear you do not have a choice," Castiel warns fairly.

"I fear _you're_ not hearing me," Lizzy tells him, standing up tall and foregoing her labor-inducing foods for a second. "My son will be normal. He'll have a normal life. He'll grow up without violence and blood and monsters and he'll be happy. Anyone, and I mean _anyone_, that gets in the way of that will severely regret it." She walks right up to him, looks him hard in the eyes, and smiles. "Even you."

"Even after I saved you both from the fire?" Castiel asks hard, insulted by her.

"Try me, you fucking tree topper," she nearly growls right in his face. "Nothing means more to me than this kid. I'll protect him if it's the very last thing I do. Tell your Father to back the fuck off. He won't like dealing with me if he doesn't."

"Are you threatening God?" Castiel asks, narrowed eyes on her.

"Is he threatening my son?"

Castiel doesn't speak.

Lizzy backs up a few steps, her hands coming to her stomach and face wrinkling. She blows out a hard breath.

"Contraction?" Sam asks, stepping forward and looking at his watch.

"Yup," she answers, looking at him. "They're not bad."

"You think broken bones aren't bad," he counters, not taking her pain level as accurate.

"Shut up. How long?" she asks.

"Just under ten minutes," Sam answers and Lizzy relaxes when the slight pain disappears.

"Ok, not bad," she shakes it all off without flinching. "Still a long way to go though."

"Are you ok?" Sam checks with her, too worried. He may have been there for every 'stupid' Lamaze class he made her go to and he's read every pregnancy and birthing book he could find but now that the actual event is here it's freaking him out.

"Calm down, Sammy-boy," she huffs a little laugh at him and returns to the kitchen counter. She goes back to her snack and leans on the counter once more. "We have a bit of time. Why don't you go fire up Ghostbusters for me while I eat this stuff and really get this train moving, huh?"

"We have time for that?" Sam asks, itching to get moving now that she's sure things are started.

"And the second one too, probably. Go," she waves him off, keeping an even exterior so that Sam can follow her example and stay relaxed. She can see his excitement.

"Uh, only if you're sure."

"I'm sure. Get going. I'll need the distraction soon enough."

Sam nods rapidly and leaves, but not before eyeing Castiel once more, still super suspicious. He plans to talk to Lizzy about him the second he leaves.

"Will you be alright?" Castiel asks, brow lowered and very serious.

"Right as rain, dude. Women do this shit every day and they aren't half a tough as I am," she smirks and bites into her jalapeno.

"I am told those are quite difficult to tolerate," he nods at the spicy food.

"I like spicy food," she shrugs and pretends her mouth isn't on fire. She just wants this kiddo out and if spicy food with get the job done then so be it. "And it gets my little guy outta there faster so…."

Castiel nods. "Do you need me?"

"The only thing I need from you is honesty," Lizzy tells him strongly. "So unless you want to explain anything else then I think I can take this from here."

Looking around, shocked by how badly he doesn't actually want to leave her during all this, Castiel feels a little let down. "Well, then… you just pray if anything goes wrong… I guess."

"I doubt it will but thanks." She smiles at him.

"Just… from now on, please pray to me if you need anything. Anything at all." His heart gets heavy. He doesn't want to leave her. "Take care of… him."

And he's gone, right in front of her eyes.

"What the fuck has my life become?" Lizzy mutters to herself as she walks for the couch, pineapple juice and bag of peppers in hand.

"You alright?" Sam wonders as she plops down next to him with her food. She props her feet heavily onto the coffee table and settles in.

"I'm fine," she says, taking a big bite and dealing with the building burn with ease.

"He just dropped a ton of bricks on your head," Sam rebuts. "What if all that crap was true."

"Then I'll stop it," Lizzy tells him.

"How?"

"Don't know yet," Lizzy says with a mouthful.

"But what if…."

"Sam," she stops him, eye brow cocked. He quiets. "We're not talking about this." He opens his mouth to rebut her and she stops him again. "I want the day my son is born to be lovely and painful and normal. It's already sad enough, ok? Dean's not here. I can't handle making it worse."

Sam silently nods at her, agreeing when he understands.

"Fuck Castiel. Junior over here is more than fine. He won't be the Second Coming or whatever," she tells him with an eye roll, hands on her stomach. "Anything comes near my little Dean they're gonna regret it."

There's a pause. "Your little Dean?" Sam asks, looking at her with confusion.

And then she realizes her slip up. "Uh… yeah. Dean. That's his name. Dean Robert."

Sam's eyes look at her with a softness she rarely sees from him.

"You ok with that?" she wonders, unsure of how Sam would feel helping raise a child that has his deceased brother's name. "I know it'll be weird saying his name again… it will be for me too…."

"I really like it," Sam says, quietly, blinking his eyes rapidly when the idea of her using Dean's name for the son he'll never get to meet. He huffs a little laugh, thankful for her decision. "Thank you."

She looks at him funny for the gratitude but gets it. His brother can't die fully if his legacy is still there. She just nods.

"Have you told Bobby?"

"Nah. I'll tell him when he gets here. Karen asked me to call when we're on their way to the hospital. They'll head out after."

"He'll like it a lot," Sam tells her, sure of it. "I think he'll be proud of that."

"Yeah, I mean, he'll basically be the kid's grandpa."

"Does he know you view it like that? And Karen?"

She scrunches her face and thinks. "Guess I should tell them."

"They'll be really happy if you do."

"I can see Karen freaking out now." Lizzy laughs a little. "But I thought about it a lot. Dean Robert sounded right. Plus Dean Brian sounded really weird… and Dean Derek is just terrible."

Sam's face wrinkles. "Brian and Derek?"

"My dad and brother," she tells him.

"Oh, right," Sam nods despite never knowing their names before now. The only name she ever said was Louise and that was rarely. Talking about her family hurt too much to do.

When the memory of Dean hits her hard, a flashing image of his smile popping into her mind, she clear her throat and grabs the remote. "Ok, let's kill some time."

She presses play on the movie and they settle in for the time being, pushing away the thoughts of the man she's still so in love with it hurt every day just being alive when he's not. This day is going to be good and beautiful no matter what.

"Mm!" Lizzy groans suddenly when she feels another contraction, this time stronger than before.

"Another one?" Sam asks, looking at his watch automatically.

"Yep. Stronger this time," she says, knowing that was fast.

"Nine and a half minutes."

"Damn," Lizzy says, acting tough of course. "This guy wants out."

As Sam waits for the pain to subside he lets out a quiet laugh.

"What?" Lizzy asks, sitting back when it's over.

"Dean Bobby," Sam tells her. "It's a little funny."

Lizzy's face falls. "Oh, that's bad."

Sam just laughs harder. "He'll be a NASCAR driver."

"Shut up," Lizzy gripes, now worried about the name.

"No, no," Sam says to her. "No one will call him Dean Bobby. It'll be fine."

"Ugh, it's so reckneck-ish," Lizzy presses her hands to her face and laughs while the rethinking begins.

"Ha! Only a little," Sam tells her, laughing still. "Lizzy, I'm just fucking with you. It's a good name. And no one will call him Dean Bobby."

"They better not," she leans back on the couch with worry.

"Stop, alright," Sam smiles out and feels the need to apologize. He reaches to the coffee table and pulls her legs towards him until her feet are in his lap. "I'm sorry, ok? I was just messing around."

"Oh, apology accepted," Lizzy says with a moan of total relief when Sam starts to rub her swollen feet. "Dude, you rub my feet and I forgive everything."

"I know," he laughs at her.

She sighs as he works, her mind flying a mile a minute now that she has a moment to really think about what's happening to her. She's having a baby. It's happening. Life is different starting right now. "Sam… are you ready for all this?"

He looks at her with a knowing expression. "Better question, are you?"

"I'm fine," Lizzy says. "A little scared that I'm going to shove a person out through my vagina but… I'm good."

"Good, huh?" Sam smirks, thinking she's lying.

"Honestly," she nods. "I'm good. I'm totally ready… which is pretty shocking to even me."

Sam nods, impressed with her.

"So your turn. _You_ ready?"

"Not really," Sam remains truthful with her. They have an agreement. Within their unique arrangement they must remain truthful about how their feeling within their living situation at all times. It won't work otherwise. "But… I'm excited. I think this is a really good thing and considering nothing good has happened to either of us in a long time… I'm excited for this too."

"You are way too good a person to be hanging around me," Lizzy huffs, eyes closing when he starts in on the sole of her right foot. "Oh my God, that's amazing."

"And this is the last time I'm doing this," Sam warns. "After Dean's here you're on your own."

She smiles slightly at that. "After Dean's here," she repeats his words.

Sam watches the emotions roll through her expression one by one before settling on a longing that's deeply rooted and hard to view on her. When her eyes open and she looks at him she exhales hard once and it's over.

"I miss him too," Sam nods and admits to her.

She hangs her head and gives in. Lizzy's heart is still utterly shattered and it hasn't mended all that much in the past months… or forty years, really. It feels like yesterday he was with her and even if she had him for just a few months he'll haunt her for a lifetime.

"But he's proud of you and you have to know that," Sam says, keeping his own sadness buried deep. They've been good at taking turns with who the strong one is. It's his turn.

She nods and wipes her eyes with her hands. "It's just hard… knowing my son will never meet his dad. And Dean would have been such a good dad…."

"Hey, hey," Sam tries to sooth her while putting her feet on the floor and moving over. He sits right next to her, reaching out to cup her face and get her to look at him. "This is supposed to be a good day. Ok? None of this. You think he'd want you to cry through this or be happy and excited?"

She doesn't respond but makes a face to show she understands.

"Be happy, Lizzy. You're about to be a mom. This is huge. And awesome."

"I know," she admits. "I know. And I am. Just… I'm really missing a piece of me right now, more than usual."

"And that's understandable. But don't let it ruin this for you," Sam tells her. "I hear that having a kid is one of those once in a lifetime things… or twice… or whatever, you get the point."

"I've heard that too," she laughs lightly, pulling his hands away from her face to hold onto them. "Fuck, man. I can't believe you're willing to do all this with me. I'm not sure if you're super nice or super insane."

"It's both."

"God, I'd be fucking lost without you right now, Sam."

"I wouldn't leave you hanging like that, not when you meant everything to my brother," Sam promises. "Plus, that's not just your son. That's my nephew. He's gonna have everything I can manage to give him. And he's _not_ going to help Heaven with anything."

"Another day," she reminds him when he brings up everything Castiel just mentioned. "We'll deal with that later."

"Ok," he agrees easily.

"I can't… I just can't. Not right now."

"I get it," Sam makes sure she knows. "If you can shove that massive bomb aside for now then I can too."

She nods a little, knowing she can't totally and that the icy fear of everything is bubbling deep in her gut, but she has no choice. If she's getting through this in one piece while emotionally stable then that news needs to wait another day.

"Oh shit," Lizzy comments and the pain flares up again. She leans over a little bit and tightens her grip on Sam's hands.

He checks his watch. "Still about the same amount of time…."

* * *

"Keep going, Lizzy," Sam says to her while trying to hide the pain in his voice. As he's holding her right leg bent up as she pushes, her hand is clamped onto his free one. Her strength is intense. He wasn't ready for the crushing, shifting-bone hold on him that she has. "You got this. You're doing great, just focus."

"Eight, nine, ten. Deep breath, Lizzy," the nurse tells her.

Face red, pain nearly crippling, Lizzy takes a deep breath when the contraction ends and she gets a short and well needed break. The pain is still everywhere and the discomfort and intensity of the experience doesn't really subside but at least it's a slight break.

"You're doing great," Sam gives her a nervous smile when she turns her head to look at him.

"Shut. The fuck. Up," she pants out in groans of pain, her sweaty face angry with him.

"What?" Sam asks innocently, expression falling low as he doesn't get why she's upset.

"I don't need you're hippy bullshit right now!" she yells at him. "There's a fucking bowling ball coming out of my vagina! A 'good work' doesn't mean shit right now!"

"Sorry… I just…."

"Uh, fuck," Lizzy complains when the contract hits her again.

"Alright, let's make this the last one. Push, Lizzy," Doctor Condon tells her.

"Ok, ok." Lizzy prepares herself and takes another deep breath. She pushes as the countdown begins. She's already had four contractions that she would equate to torture and she would know torture. Fuck everything if she wasn't about to make this the very last one.

And Sam shuts up. He keeps his hold on her hand and on her knee and shuts up. He can't imagine doing this himself and the intensity of it all is nothing he could have been prepared for. This is crazy.

"Just need to get his shoulders through and you're done," Doctor Condon tells her. "One more good push."

Determined, Lizzy gives it hell. She wants this over with.

The last of her strength is put into it, giving all she's got just as she plans to do from this moment on in her life, and sure enough she can hear a small little voice crying out into the tiny hospital room.

The moment the voice is heard the power in the entire hospital shuts down right as a massive clap of thunder can be heard outside the room. The sound shakes the building as the flashing bright light travels across the sky.

"Black out," one of the nurses announces. "Generators should kick in any second. Stand by, people."

"What the hell…?" Sam starts to ask.

"We don't get storms around here too often but we have backup generators to covers us," the nurse assures him as the lights turn right back on. "See? Nothing to worry about."

"Alright. Relax. Relax," Lizzy is then told by her doctor as the new mom sits back and sighs out with relief that she's allowed to stop. Eye closing for a second, she breathes out hard and gulps in more air. "Jesus Christ, that sucked…."

"Oh my… god," she hears Sam half awe and half laugh. When she looks at him his eyes are locked on the doctor with a stunned and sweet expression for good reason. Lizzy follows his eye line and she sees that her doctor is handling something as the two nurses work around her.

"Well done, mom," Doctor Condon says, her hands wiping the remnants off of the wailing little form in her hold.

"Oh… wow," Lizzy whispers to herself, eyes locked on that tiny form. His voice screams, crying out with everything foreign happening to him but it's a welcomed sound somehow. A shock of thin, dark hair peeking from the towel being used to clean and warm him and she's in total love.

"You want to cut the cord, Sam?" the nurse asks him out of nowhere.

Sam's head whips around to Lizzy, face paled and not at all ready for that question. "I… uh… I don't…."

"Do it, Sam," Lizzy nods, waving a hand through the air to show she doesn't mind if he does. "It's cool."

"You sure?" he asks, not totally comfortable with this idea.

She nods back. "Dean would want you to be a part of this, right?"

Sam doesn't answer. Instead he very carefully takes up the offered scissors. Once more he keeps his eyes in places that won't absolutely scar him for life to see and he does as he's asked.

"Good work, Sam," the doctor winks at him, knowing he's uncomfortable.

"Shouldn't you be giving the praises to the lady that just gave birth?" Lizzy asks jokingly as her eyes follow the little bundle being handled.

"Very funny," Doctor Condon replies while getting back to work.

"Is he ok?" Lizzy questions with emotion caught in her throat.

"He's looking just fine," the doctor answers as she works, bringing him to the counter nearby. "Six pounds, eight ounces. I'm going to say a good nineteen inches long. And some very healthy lungs if you couldn't already tell."

Lizzy laughs and the sound gets caught. Her eyes fill when she gets a good peek at his tiny face. Wrinkled up in anger and distraught stress from all the craziness around him and she's dying. "Can I hold him?"

"Just another minute."

It feels like an hour before the doctor has done all she needed to do. When she finally turns around she has a blue wrapped bundle in her arms and a big smile.

"Holy shit," Lizzy whispers out as the baby is placed in her arm. He starts to calm once he's no longer being handled so much and he squirms a little in her arms, his eyes closed. She takes one good look at his full little lips and she can already see it.

He's his father.

Crying immediately, Lizzy presses a hand over her mouth as she stares. That's Dean all the way. The boy hasn't even unwrinkled yet, hasn't opened his eyes, but that's her husband that she misses so damn much it's utterly painful.

"Lizzy…." Sam starts.

"It's him," Lizzy says, never looking away as she traces his small face with her index finger. "It's Dean. He's right there."

Sam takes a moment to really give the baby a good one over. He sees it too. His brother is clear as day in that little boy. He remembers the baby pictures, back when their family consisted of just three people and Dean was an infant. He looked just like this.

"Guess the name fits then," Sam huffs a small laugh as he just stands there, looking down at the two of them. His heart is somehow full and very heavy feeling at the same time. All that he just witnessed was shocking and eye-opening to say the least… yet it was somehow beautiful within the anger Lizzy spat at him and the pain she was obviously in.

"Oh, I love him so much," Lizzy starts to sob and Sam isn't sure which Dean she's speaking of. Probably both of them. "Oh my god, this is really happening…."

"How are we feeling, mom?" Doctor Condon asks as she comes back over to Lizzy to check on her.

"I, uh… I don't know," she cries out and starts to laugh at the same time when it's all too much.

"You wouldn't be the first to answer that way," the doctor promises. "But you look happy."

"I am," Lizzy nods, eyes still stuck to her son. "I'm… actually happy…."


	53. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 16)

**Eight Years Later**

"So you want me to pick him up from his baseball game?!" Sam shouts to Lizzy from the kitchen as he bites into the red apple he took from the bowl on the counter. He holds it with his teeth as he walks to the messy kitchen table, stacking his manila folders in a pile and shoving them into his expensive looking leather briefcase.

"If you could!" she yells back, rushing into the kitchen with Dean's Yoda backpack on her shoulder and her own stack of papers in her free hand. "I have parent teacher conferences tonight, remember?"

"Oh yeah… damn," Sam shakes his head after pulling the apple from his mouth as he forgot about that.

Lizzy sighs and looks at him with remorse. "You had plans." She doesn't ask as she can already tell he did. She can practically read his mind these days.

"It's fine," Sam brushes aside and drops his briefcase. He takes a bite of apple and heads for the coffee maker. "Sarah can wait until tomorrow."

"Aw, you had a date?" Lizzy feels even worse. "I'll call a babysitter…."

"Don't spend money on a sitter," Sam tells her as he pours himself his morning cup into a steel to-go mug before reaching for her Wonder Woman travel mug and doing the same for her. "Dean and I haven't hung out in a while, just us. I'll watch the game and we'll get pizza or something."

"And he's in bed by eight!" Lizzy scolds, pointing at him before putting all her corrected papers neatly into her canvas tote.

"Bedtime Nazi…." Sam grumbles jokingly as he looks at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Dude!" she gets mad at his name calling.

"I was just kidding."

"But I'm _serious_. It's Thursday. He still has school tomorrow and last time you were in charge he was a wreck the next day because you let him stay up too late."

"I'm his uncle," Sam shrugs it off.

"And I need you to be a _good_ influence."

"That's what _you're_ for." He gives her a patronizingly tight-lipped grin.

"Barely," Lizzy rolls her eyes as he hands over her travel mug. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"You sure Sarah won't be mad?"

"Uh… no. I'm not," Sam laughs slightly. "But if she is mad then I don't want to keep her around anyways. If she can't understand me spending time with my nephew then she won't work out as it is. This'll be a good test."

"Dean does make for a good barometer," Lizzy nods and smiles.

Sam narrows his eyes at her. "I think _you_ make a better barometer, actually."

"Me!?" Lizzy asks with surprise. Over the years she's done everything she could to make sure she wasn't intrusive in his personal life and she never hindered or burdened him in any single way, not that she's been aware of.

"Lizzy, I live with another woman. A pretty one at that," Sam lets her know. "And after everything, we're very close. Women have been… jealous of that."

"Shit, seriously?" she keeps questioning with wide eyes as she steps closer to him, upset.

"Yeah. Remember Madison?"

"Aw, I liked her," Lizzy says while remembering. "She was really good with Dean when he was little."

"Yeah, well… she told me she couldn't be with me when I was still living with you," Sam tells her.

"Why!?"

Sam pauses, contemplating telling her the answer. He does. "Madison was convinced that I was in love with you and while I was living here that wouldn't change."

"You're joking!?" she asks with wide eyes yet again.

"Oh no," Sam nods. "She was sure of it."

"That's ridiculous," Lizzy says.

"I know. That's why I dumped her."

"You told me she just didn't work out."

"Because she didn't," he simply answers.

"You should have told me!" Lizzy gets angry and shoves him in the upper arm.

"Why bother? Wouldn't have changed anything," he lets her know as he bites his apple again. "But some girls get weird about this arrangement."

"We could always… change it," Lizzy suggests cautiously, not actually wanting to change their situation. "I mean, we always said this would be temporary."

"That's true," Sam nods, mouthful of apple as he stands tall and thinks it over.

"I wouldn't be offended," Lizzy gently lets him know, hand on his forearm. "You've been a really, _really_ good friend. You didn't need to do any of the millions of things you've done for us, Sam."

"I wanted to," he once more returns in a simple, obvious fashion.

"But maybe it's time you get your independence back," she suggests lightly. "You've definitely earned the right and Dean's old enough now…."

"You want me out?" Sam asks with a smirk.

"Not saying that," Lizzy grins wide.

Sam nods. "Sooner or later I'll find my own place. But I'm not ready yet."

Lizzy keeps smiling and presses up on her toes, kissing his cheek. Sam grins wide.

"You know, that's exactly the kind of thing that scares off all my girlfriends," he lightly jests.

"Oh yeah?" Lizzy wonders.

"Definitely."

"Huh, and here I was thinking it was your face…."

"Shut up," Sam says quickly and grabs his briefcase, knowing he has to leave for work. "Dean!"

"Yeah!?" the young boy yells back from his room on the second floor of the townhouse.

"Hustle your butt! It's getting late!"

"Coming!"

Lizzy shakes her head. "Don't you have to be in court by nine?"

"Sure do… about time, dude!" Sam says when Dean walks around the corner. His hair is already done, Lizzy styling it just like her late husband always did every day for him. He then evaluates Dean's clothing. "That's… interesting…."

"Missus Miller said we had to bring stuff to school to write about," Dean tells his uncle as he looks down at the t-shirt that's just massive on him, coming easily to his knees. "It had to be something special someone gave us so we can write an essay about why it's special."

"It looks like you're wearing a dress," Sam laughs.

"Nah-uh," Dean says quickly back, thinking Sam's wrong.

"Yeah-huh," Sam fights back.

"Well, no girly dresses ever look this cool," Dean says with absolute certainty as he get into a chair at the table.

"O's or Chex?" Lizzy asks her son as she reaches into the cabinet to get his cereal.

"Cheeri-O's, please."

"Comin' up," Lizzy says to him as she grabs a bowl. As she pours it she tells Sam, "We picked out the t-shirt together last night. I told him it was his dad's favorite shirt and I gave it to him as a little baby to help know his dad. So we popped it out of the frame on his wall for today."

"I'm gonna write about dad," Dean tells Sam. "And how he was super brave and he helped people."

Sam swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, still having a hard enough time speaking of his brother. And he forgot about that shirt completely until now. "You remember how it was that he helped people?"

"He was a soldier," Dean says as Lizzy places a bowl of cereal and milk in front of him. She hands him a spoon. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, little man," Lizzy smiles at his politeness and pats his cheek once as she heads to the refrigerator to make his lunch. He's a really good kid, even if he gets himself into trouble now and then out of either curiosity or too much energy. He really is a solid combination of both Lizzy and Dean.

"Good," Sam nods, still liking the cover he and Lizzy came up with as soon as Dean was old enough to ask questions about his father. It does explain what Dean did to a degree without exposing his true past life. They never wanted to lie to the boy but telling him that monsters are real at his age and that the man in the pictures all over his room used to kill them? Didn't seem too wise just yet. "I think writing about your dad and that shirt would be a good topic."

"Yeah, 'cause AC/DC's awesome," Dean says around a mouthful of cereal.

"Yeah they are," Lizzy smirks. "Wanna play some Back in Black on the way to school?"

"Yes!" Dean answers, milk dripping down his chin.

"Aw, gross, man," Sam complains and grabs a paper napkin from the holder on the table. He wipes the kid's mouth. "Such a slob."

"No I'm not," Dean returns with as he mumbles through his half-chewed food, swatting Sam's hand away.

"Try not talking with your mouth full when you tell me you're not a slob next time and maybe I'll believe it," Sam explains, laughing a little.

"Sam, you're gonna be late," Lizzy tells him, pointing at the wall clock.

"Crap," he complains and grabs his half eaten apple, coffee, and briefcase. "Alright. Dean, I'll see you at the game later."

"You're coming!?" he perks up, all excited.

"Wouldn't miss it," he smiles, hit square in the heart with that reaction from Dean. "And then I'm thinking pizza for dinner."

"Yes!" Dean jumps out of his chair with excitement. "Can we watch zombies later!?"

Lizzy's focus snaps onto Sam, the man looking guilty. "Zombies!?"

"He just means…."

"Did you let him watch a scary movie last time you two were alone together, Uncle Sam?!" Lizzy asks accusatorily.

Sam pauses, knowing he's caught, and fesses up. "Night of the Living Dead."

"It was awesome, mom!" Dean tells her with excitement, his mom rolling her eyes.

"I know it was… I love that movie," Lizzy admits. "The problem is that the awesome movie is for adults… not third graders!" She glares at Sam.

"Well, I gotta get to work," Sam excuses himself to avoid it all. He pulls open the front door of the townhouse. "Have a lovely day, guys."

"No more horror movies!" Lizzy yells at him as the door closes.

"Uh-huh," she can hear him say on the other side, clearly promising nothing.

"Jerk," Lizzy grumbles under her breath before looking at Dean. "I mean it, young man. No horror movies tonight."

"Fine," he huffs and plops back onto his kitchen chair.

"And no sulking. Eat your breakfast and let's get going. I have to get some stuff done at school before the kids get there."

It gets silent as Lizzy finishes Dean and her lunches and he finishes breakfast. When he gets down from the table, bringing his bowl to the sink, Dean asks her, "Do I look like my dad?"

Lizzy freezes for a split second before looking over at her boy standing by the sink. "You look exactly like him."

Dean just nods and starts to walk away to grab his sneakers.

"Why do you ask?" Lizzy wonders, watching him go.

"Someone told me I did."

"Who?" she has to wonder as most people her son interacts with never met his dad.

"A friend."

"Yeah, who?"

"Doesn't matter, mom," Dean grumbles and heads to his room. "Chill."

"Watch it," she warns with his words but gets lost in thought as she packs them up. Who the hell would have told him that? Sure, she's told him that a million times but he's her mom. Half of what moms say are white noise to their own kids. And her son has pictures of Dean in his room. But a friend mentioned it. Who?

"Can you tell me more about my shirt?"

Her thoughts are broken when they're interrupted by her little boy, her little Dean, asking yet more questions about his father.

"Sure," she answers, handing his backpack over and picking up her tote bag. "Anything specific?" as she holds the door open for him.

"Why was it dad's favorite?"

She smiles warmly as she locks the door behind her. "Well, probably because AC/DC is awesome… and because when we were just dating I gave it to him while on a road trip to Montana…."

"What kind of pizza do you want?" Sam asks as they buckle into the Mustang, Dean in the back as he looks at him through the rearview mirror.

"Pepperoni!" Dean answers quickly with excitement.

"Only kid I know that doesn't like plain cheese," Sam mentions as he dials the local joint they always go to.

"Boooooriiiiing," Dean sing-songs as Sam orders a small peperoni and a large all veggie pizza.

Once done, Sam hangs up, plugs his phone into his system, and puts on a streaming classic rock radio station. Dean's head starts to bob when 'Smoke on the Water' begins.

Sam has moments like this, when he can see so much of his brother in his nephew that he feels like Dean, the big brother, is still there. He used to nod his head to every song he loved when in the car, just like his son is doing now. It's comforting to have that presence as much as it can sometimes hurt. But Sam's thankful for it. He knows Dean's living on through this amazing little person and watching him grow and become his own man, one that shares the pure heart and goodness that his brother had, is quite mind-blowing.

"So… heck of a game," Sam smiles through the rearview mirror.

"What game were you watching?"

Sam laughs a little at his grumpy inflection.

"We lost, Uncle Sam. Wasn't a heck of anything." Dean's tone is down as he watches the passing scenery.

"I don't know. I think the home run you hit was something."

"Didn't win the game for us."

"It was still impressive."

"Whatever."

He realizes Dean's sulking with the loss. "You can't win every game, Dean."

"Yeah… still sucks to lose though."

"Hey, watch your mouth," Sam says in his usual not-quite-authoritative-enough tone. The yelling is Lizzy's job.

"_You_ watch your mouth…" Dean grumbles in lame return and sits there for a moment, thinking over his day. He wants to ask Sam something but he's still figuring out just how to do that. Eh, screw it. Just ask. "Uncle Sam… are you… are you, like a… like…." Dean pauses and sighs, frustrated with words in general.

"Am I like what?" Sam asks.

"Like, I know you're my uncle and all… but are you kinda like my dad too or something?"

Sam's heart immediately starts hammering in his chest. "You have a dad."

"I know. But he's gone in heaven."

"I know that," Sam responds, thinking about how to answer this. "But he's still your dad."

"I know that." Dean's eyes are still on the scenery.

"Good." Sam nods, thinking it's over. It's not.

"Jenny Roiland doesn't have a dad either. He's in heaven too," Dean says to the window. "But today, when we wrote about our special things people gave us, Jenny wrote about how she lives with her grandpa and he gave her a snow globe that had their picture in it. She said he was kinda like her dad because she lives with him and he took care of her and brought her to the movies and stuff, just like the other dads do."

"Ok…."

"But you do that stuff too," Dean says, looking in the mirror and catching Sam's eyes when he can stray from the road. "We go do fun stuff and you take care of me like mom does. Right?"

"Definitely."

"And I live with you."

"That's true."

"So… are you kinda like Jenny's grandpa?" Dean finally makes his point. "Are you like my dad? Even if you're not really my dad?"

"Jesus," Sam mumbles under his breath as he loosens his tie. Dean has always been a curious kid, asking questions that range from easy to impossible to answer. This is one of the harder ones.

When he looks in the rearview again Dean's just looking at him and waiting for an answer.

"Uh… well, you're right. I'm not your dad…."

"Duh! Dad's my dad," Dean rolls his eyes as his kid-logic makes it clear that he understands who his dad really is.

And Sam lets out a laugh at that. Those words. That's exactly how his brother would have answered back. "Good. Because my brother would have been the best dad ever. I'm sad that you never got to meet him, Dean. He would have been your best friend… but because I love my brother and I love you… I've always tried to help you and your mom out in any way I can."

"Like my dad would," Dean says easily.

"Exactly."

"So you _are_ like my dad… just like Jenny's grandpa is like her dad."

Sam thinks for a minute. "Yeah. It's a lot like that, buddy."

He watches Dean nod to himself as if deep in thought. "Cool."

The sounds of the old Mustang and the classic rock take over for a moment, Dean simply done with the conversation as he got out of it what he wanted. Sam, on the other hand, is completely affected. He's never stopped to think it through until now. He and Lizzy have lived together for years now and Sam's always been there for them both without question and without being asked. It just felt right to do so. Now he's seeing that spending nights feeding and putting Dean to sleep while his mom went back to school to become an elementary education teacher and picking him up after practice and taking him out for ice cream on hot summer days has all added up to something far bigger than he ever intended.

He's truly become Dean's father… he's taking his brother's place for him.

He doesn't want to steal the title from his big brother, and if little Dean ever called him dad he'd correct him right away, but it feels good to know how important he is to his nephew. It's heartwarming to hear that Dean looks at him as a father figure as aside from Sam he doesn't have one.

"Can we watch a movie tonight?"

Sam's shaken from his thoughts by the question from the backseat.

"You have homework?" Sam wonders as it's a school night.

"It's easy stuff," Dean excuses.

"Like?"

"Math."

"You hate math," Sam calls him out.

"But it's still easy," Dean tells him. "I can do it fast and then watch a movie, right?"

"I'll have to check your work first."

Dean groans with upset.

"No movie unless your homework's done right," Sam reiterates. "I know you. You'll rush through it because you want something and it'll be littered with mistakes."

"I'll do it right," Dean says in a complaining tone.

"You better… or no zombies."

Sam watches Dean's big green eyes light right up. "Seriously!?"

"You tell your mother and I will kill you!" Sam warns fairly.

"Oh my god, I won't! I swear!" Dean bounces in his seat a little. "Awesome!"

Sam laughs, knowing he just pulled both the dad car and then the uncle card all in one conversation. Oh well. He's _like_ a dad, but he's not a real dad, right? "Don't make me regret this…."

"Finally!" Lizzy complains as she walks through the front door of their town house, her body slightly slumped with her excruciatingly long day.

"Hey," Sam greets as he looks up from depositions and testimony on his current case to smile at her. One look as she tosses her canvas bag aside and he knows it was a long one for her. "That bad, huh?" he wonders, picking up the bottle of red wine next to him and pouring her a glass.

"Brutal," she answers, plopping next to him on the couch and stealing the glass as soon as it's poured out. She takes a big sip and sighs. "God damn parents. My job would be so easy if every kid was an orphan."

Sam has to laugh at her. "Well, at least it's over."

"Amen, Sammy-boy," she clinks her glass with his and downs more wine as she watches him start to pack up for the night. "How was Dean?"

"Uh, good," Sam nods, all papers in his briefcase for tomorrow. "They lost the game."

"He must have been so bummed," Lizzy says sadly, knowing how competitive he can get.

"Yeah, he was… especially because he hit his first home run and they still lost." Sam smiles at her wide.

"What!?" she sits up taller with excitement.

"Yeah, smacked it over left field," Sam tells her, sitting back with his glass to recap the day with her. "It was… pretty amazing to watch."

She can see the pride all over Sam. "Aw, so proud of that boy… and I missed it." Her face lowers. "Because of other kid's parents wanting to complain to me all night. Ugh."

"Hey, it's cool," Sam tells her. "Jackie Decker's mom caught it on video. She'll send it to you tomorrow."

"Oh, thank god," she relaxes a little.

"Plus, Dean and I talked about that. He told me he gets it, that you had to work. Plus, it's the first game you missed all year. And _will_ miss all year."

"Damn straight," she grumbles, killing her wine all too fast and reaching for more.

Sam takes a breath. "So, we had a weird conversation in the car after the game today," Sam says, deciding to let her know about what Dean asked him. "Kinda freaked me out a little, actually."

"Oh yeah? Was he asking you who your favorite clown was?"

Sam's face, the serious one that says not to fuck with him, gets aimed right at her.

"Bozo, right?" she jokes further. "Or is it Plucky…?"

"You're not funny," Sam says, pissed.

"Kidding," she shakes it off.

"Honestly, he asked me if I was like his dad."

"You're nothing like Dean was," Lizzy laughs at the idea. "No two brothers could ever be less alike than you two."

"No, no… not if I was like _Dean_," Sam tries to correct. "Ok, so he has the girl in her class whose real father isn't around. He also passed away years ago. She now lives with her grandfather and she said he was just like a dad to her because he does all the dad stuff in her house."

"Oh," Lizzy says, getting quiet when she understands.

"He asked if I was like that. If I was _like_ his dad since Dean isn't around."

Lizzy remains quiet for a moment. Just the thought of Dean can sometimes drag her down to a terrible place, one where she can't manage with how much she misses him. "What did you say?"

"I didn't know what to say at first," Sam admits. "But we talked about how Dean's his real dad, and he already knew that loud and clear."

"Good," Lizzy nods, happy for that.

"But the more I explained it… the more I supported the argument Dean Junior was making. That I am a lot like his father because of all I do for him. And I didn't set out to confirm the thought for him at all… it just happened."

"You sound like a lawyer," Lizzy cocks an eyebrow with his vocabulary.

"I am one."

"Not at home, dude," she laughs lightly before telling him, "And you told him the right thing. You've been really good to us, Sam. I'm glad he understands that you're much more than just his uncle."

Sam smiles small and looks down into his glass, flattered and happy that Lizzy agrees with what he told Dean. He was worried about her reaction to it but he shouldn't have. They've been on the same page with this whole raising-Dean thing at almost every turn so he should have known.

"So, how'd Sarah take it?" Lizzy asks, changing the subject in the quiet house as the two relax for the first time all day. This has become an unofficial weeknight thing for them, recap the day with a glass of wine on the rough ones after Dean's in bed. They talk about everything, nothing taboo at this point as they've become that close.

"Uh… not well," he laughs a little bit, awkward about it because he knows what her reaction will be. "I know she was trying to be nice about it but I could hear the disappointment over the phone when she totally she lied and said it was ok to cancel again."

"Damn it, Sam," Lizzy complains right away. "I don't want your life upended because of us."

"It's not," Sam assures her with a smile. "You haven't upended anything."

"I got a potential girlfriend pissed at you."

"And I'm _like_ a dad these days, aren't I?" he makes a joke out of it all. "And even if she's gorgeous and super nice… not sure this was going anywhere long term anyways. Plus, if Sarah can't understand my responsibilities then… what can I do?"

"You can let us move out and allow you to live your life," Lizzy tells him for sure. "I always knew this day would come and if now's the time then now's the time. We move. You live your life."

Sam pauses, looking at her funny.

"What?" she rolls her eyes.

"Well, my brother was right about you," Sam comments, Lizzy's eyes widening for a second with another mention of Dean. "You're stubborn as hell."

"Shut up," Lizzy tells him, pressing him in the chest with her bare foot.

"And violent," Sam jokes, grabbing her foot. He runs his fingertips down her sole and she jumps up out of her seat a bit.

"Stop!" she yells, pushing him and nearly spilling her wine. Sam lets go and she pulls her leg back, tucking it under her in the corner of the couch. "You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"And you're a dream," Sam sarcastically replies. "But Dean really was right. You get something in your head and you won't let it go. Not sure if you noticed but I love living here. And… you and little Dean are a big part of my life. Hell, you _are_ my life."

Lizzy swallows hard and just melts while looking at him. It was such a sweet thing to say.

"That was a little… more honest than I was ready for," Sam immediately admits, placing his glass back onto the coffee table. "I think maybe killing a half a bottle on my own before you even walked in here was a bad idea."

"You had a bad day too?" Lizzy asks, changing subjects to less meaningful things.

"Yeah. My newest client's got a bad rep in the court system. He's fucked up a few too many times so his credibility is pretty shitty… even though, these days, he's honestly cleaned up his act. Jail time is not what he needs. He need a helping hand, but… screw it, it's a long story," Sam tells her and sits back, giving up. "I just feel bad that I might not be able to clear an innocent man this time. He needs a second chance, not a barred cell."

Lizzy scoots closer to him, rubbing a hand up and down his white button-down shirt sleeve as he's still in his work clothes sans suit jacket. "See, this is why you can't be a public defender."

"People have a right to a fair trial," Sam shrugs, picking up his almost empty glass and killing its contents. "Someone has to do it."

"But most of the time you get stuck with the scum of the Earth that you have to try honestly to set free and clear," she explains. "Or you get innocent people that come from shit and are assumed guilty right away and you can't change the system's mind. This is crushing you slowly but surely, Sam. It's not good for you."

He sighs. "Still. Someone has to do it. I believe in the system… even if it doesn't believe in its own citizens from time to time."

She smiles softly and sits right next to him now, barely an inch between them. "Well, I say give it a rest for the night. It's already ten. Get some sleep. You look tired."

"I am tired," he agrees. "You don't look much better either."

"I'm not," Lizzy answers, finishing her second glass in record timing. "Long day."

"I hear you."

"Thanks again for taking Dean," Lizzy tells him, feeling the wine a little bit now. "I appreciate it. Dean probably appreciates it more."

"We had fun," Sam smiles. "He made a shitty day better for me so it was good."

"Good," Lizzy grins softly back. "You're a good guy, Sam. Just… thank you." She leans in and kisses his cheek, just so happy he's in their lives.

With too much wine in his system, Sam smiles bashfully at the move, peering at her out of the corner of his eye. He cares about her and Dean so much, always ready to do whatever he can to make sure this tiny little bit of his family is happy and well. After losing Dean and then his father just months after, his life would be so lonely and sad without them in it.

And Lizzy stays there, close to him. She's come to admire Sam over time. She watched him put himself through school all while mourning his brother and only best friend's passing and trying to help raise a child that isn't his. Sam's noble and filled with purpose and conviction. Lizzy can't help but think about how damn proud of him Dean would be if he were alive now.

It's innocent and unthinking, the moment just simply comfortable and filled with mutual caring, when Lizzy leans in closer and presses one small, sweet kiss to Sam's lips. It's just a second long, Sam almost frozen with the shock of it, and when Lizzy backs away from the kiss her eyes open and show her surprise.

"Ok… so that… I'm sorry," she says slowly and with a sheepish smile.

"No… it's f-fine," Sam stutters out, equally flustered.

"No it isn't," Lizzy laughs at herself. "That was… I really don't know where that came from."

Sam grins warmly at her. "Forget it. It was nothing."

"Just booze?" she laughs a little.

"And mutual misery from our jobs," Sam nods, giving her an out as he'd rather not look at what happened too seriously.

She nods in return. "Maybe. Yeah… or…."

Sam just looks at her with curiosity, wanting to know where her brain is.

"I'm sorry," she shakes her head. "I'm just… lonely, I guess." She huffs an embarrassed laugh. "I've been so focused on Dean and giving him a good life and keeping a good job for the past eight years… I've realized lately that I've neglected myself the whole time. It's sad, really."

"Dean's been gone for years, Lizzy," Sam says as gently as possible. "Maybe it's time to… go out on a date or something?"

"No," she grins sadly. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I just… why bother?" Lizzy asks. "I already know Dean was it for me. He was my one. I know I'm not ever finding that again."

Sam's face wrinkles with upset. "So you're going to be a nun the rest of your life?"

"A nun with a really good vibrator," she winks and gets him to laugh awkwardly at her joke.

"You can't just… get off alone and be satisfied in life. Just think about maybe getting back out there. Nothing too dramatic, maybe a date or two. I think it would be good for you."

"Yeah, you're probably right," she answers and he doesn't believe her for a second. "I'll think it over."

"Good."

She grins and looks him over once. "Would have been fun though."

"What would have?" Sam asks, face dropping.

"Come on," she nudges him with an elbow. "You know what."

He just stares at her a beat before asking with yet more surprise, "You mean… you and me?"

"Why not?" she laughs at his frightened look. "I mean, who do you know better than me?"

"No one."

"Exactly," Lizzy nods. "And nothing has to come from it. Just, you know, a couple people… enjoying the company of each other."

Sam's wide eyes couldn't possibly get any bigger.

"I can see you're not digging this idea all that much," Lizzy laughs at him and pours the rest of the wine bottle into their glasses equally.

"I didn't see it coming, honestly," he says to her. "I mean, after eight years I didn't think this would randomly come up."

"Again, loneliness. It can make a person weak. I would know," she says with a grin. "I wasn't looking to make you uncomfortable. Forget I said anything."

Sam doesn't respond as the moment has his tongue. He can't believe what she just said to him. This wasn't anything he could have prepared for.

But she is a beautiful woman. A warm, kind, so stunning woman that has been his closest confidant when he had no one else. And she's kept herself in shape, her form nothing short of sexy… especially when she wears those pencil skirts to work… like the one she's wearing now.

"It's not that I… wouldn't want to," Sam speaks up, wanting to clarify things. "I mean, come on. You're… very easy on the eyes, you know that."

"Why thank you," Lizzy laughs at him.

"And… I trust you. More than anyone else in my life."

"As I do you," she keeps smiling with warmth.

"It's just… Dean, you know…."

"Say no more," Lizzy tells him, a hand to his shoulder as she sips her wine. "I get it. It's weird."

"No it's not," Sam denies and Lizzy just gives him a knowing look. "Ok, so it totally is."

She laughs again.

"But I get it. I mean, I've had a couple girlfriends…."

"You mean a couple girls that you've went on no more than four dates with each, never sticking with one long enough to constitute a real relationship or earn the label of girlfriend?"

"Well, if you spell it out like that," Sam rolls his eyes. "But what I was gonna say is… I get it. I get lonely, too."

"Such is the life of a former hunter plagued by her husband's supernatural death and a former up and coming leader of the next demon army."

"I guess."

Lizzy sighs. "I'm sorry I put you in that position. Call it a momentary lapse in judgment."

"Done."

"I'm gonna get some sleep. Sadly there's one more work day left," Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"Still on for that hike with Dean on Saturday?" Sam asks, knowing he could use the relaxing afternoon with family after his own work week.

"Absolutely!" Lizzy gets excited.

"Good," Sam grins.

"Night."

"G'night."

Lizzy leaves the room for her own and Sam's left with his thoughts. Or rather, he tries to avoid all thought instead. He's not even sure where his head is after a moment like that, one in which he could never in a million years have thought would happen, he just shuts himself down. He finishes the wine in the glass, packs up his files for the next day, and heads for the bathroom. He doesn't think about that split second kiss as he brushes his teeth and he most definitely doesn't wonder about the offer made by a lonely woman that's buzzed after a long day while washing his face and stripping out of his suit pants and button down.

Once settled under the sheets of his bed, Sam sighs and closes his eyes, ready to get some rest.

But it doesn't happen.

He's wide awake.

He tosses, turns, flips his pillow over, rolls to his other side… and nothing. He had been tired when he got home. He'd been even more tired after a baseball game in the early fall sun, pizza, a zombie flick, getting Dean in bed, and then looking over his files while downing some wine. But now he's wide awake and he can't help but blame Lizzy.

She was right. He is lonely, just like her. Every girl he's found in the past several years has been a wash, none of them capturing his attention for more than a couple weeks. They just weren't for him or they just couldn't accept his voluntary roll in Dean and Lizzy's life.

He didn't want anyone that couldn't understand that anyways but it's left him solitary in a house with two other people.

Deep, deep down he knows he's being stupid. He should leave well enough alone just like he told Lizzy he would. It's a bad idea.

When was the last time he made a bad decision though? He's owed one by now, right?

It's really quite surreal the way his feet take him up the stairs to the second floor as his mind remains blank. He feels like he's not in control, or it might be that he has to feel out of control in order for this to happen at all.

When he reaches the bedroom door he stops, breathes deep once and gives himself the time to chicken out. Instead he pushes the door open nearly silently.

"Dean?" Lizzy asks, assuming it's her son. He hasn't woken up from a nightmare bad enough to come get her in years but that's just what she assumes at the late hour.

"It's me," Sam answers in a hushed voice, closing the door and walking for her bed.

"Are you alright?" Lizzy wonders, having never seen Sam interrupt her night like this before.

Sam doesn't answer her. Instead he pulls aside the bed covers and gets in while wearing only his boxer briefs.

"What are you…?" Lizzy tries to ask but her voice is stopped when he kisses her. It isn't aggressive or pushy, just slow and cautious. It lasts just a moment, one in which both of their head are flying through whatever is happening here.

Sam ends the kiss, brings a hand to her cheek and looks right into her eyes in the dark room. "I'm lonely, too."

Lizzy wrinkles her face lightly yet kindly. "What about Sarah?"

Sam just shrugs, telling her without words that he knows she's not the one for him anyways.

The sad and understanding smile Lizzy gives him right back puts him at ease a bit. She then leans in and kisses him again, her hands coming to his chest as she moves. Slowly she pushes him back until he's lying down in her bed, Lizzy getting onto top of him without ever breaking their lips apart.

The feel of another person, his skin and the hard lines of his form as she lets her fingers move up his front, is foreign at this point but so welcomed. The true comfort of it, the taste of someone's lips and the heat of someone else's body warming up the sheets… she could cry if she let herself think about how she's deprived herself and how thankful she is that she's able to have this now, morning awkwardness be damned.

And when Sam's hands come to her hips, gripping tightly before tracing the line between her tight tank top and panties she wears to bed, she remembers what it is to be wanted. His touch, light but certain, is something she's missed since she lost the one true love of her life.

Pulling her shirt overhead, Sam sighs deeply when he sees her. This woman that he's lived with for years, shared a life with, was far more stunning than he was ready for. And when she leans down onto him, her breasts pressed to his chest as she silently sighs with contentment, she wants him.

"You really sure?" Lizzy asks, the worry a whisper against his mouth as she catches his eyes with her own. She needs to know before they go on that this is alright, this won't change anything.

Sam nods before bringing a hand to the back of her head, pulling her in again to kiss her more and stop thinking so much. This is something they both deserve.

"Good morning."

The words are said quietly as Lizzy walks into the kitchen, glancing at Sam. They make eye contact briefly, Sam immediately looking away.

"Morning," he answers back, screwing on the top of his travel mug at the counter.

"Sleep alright?" Lizzy asks, the question so lame it hurts her ears.

"Uh… yeah," Sam nods, grabbing his usual apple and taking a bit as he walks past her towards his briefcase.

"I'm sorry I… kind of… kicked you out last night. Afterwards," Lizzy says, leaning back into the countertop and facing him. "I just got nervous that Dean might see you at some point for whatever reason…."

"You don't need to explain," Sam nods, agreeing with his being annexed. "I get it."

"Good. I wasn't trying to be rude. That'd just be hard to explain to a kid," she huffs a laugh.

"Like I said, I get it," Sam smiles oddly and picks up his briefcase. "I'm gonna head out."

"This early?" she asks, eyebrows flying up.

"Yeah, got some things to do at the office before court. Wanna make sure I have time."

She sees the jitter in his hands and his eyes darting about. "You're weirded out."

"What!?" Sam asks, knowing his voice already gave him away. His tone goes so high it nearly cracks every time he lies. And then he lies anyways. "No. No. I'm not… weirded out. I just have work to do."

"Cut the shit," she smirks and walks for him. She places a hand on his forearm and looks up at him. "You regret it, don't you?"

Sam sighs as he looks at her hand, remembering all the other places it touched him just last night. "Regret's the wrong word. I'm… worried about what happens now."

"We go on with our lives," Lizzy shrugs. "No harm, no foul."

"How do we do that though?" Sam asks her, his voice lowering. "I saw you naked."

"I saw you naked too," she says easily. "I've seen a lot of naked men in my day. So what?"

"So, I live with you. What if it gets weird?"

"You're the only one making it weird right now," Lizzy laughs at him.

"Sorry, but I'm not exactly used to the casual way of doing things."

And now she feels bad. "Did you feel better afterwards?"

"Well, yeah. Until this morning."

"Tell your brain to shut the fuck up." She says, shoving him in the arm like she always does. "I feel like a million bucks right now."

"How?"

"I'm destressed. I… I felt good last night. Hell, I felt good twice," Lizzy explains with a bright grin as she watches Sam's cheeks color with the mention of their night and what happened. "I haven't felt taken care of like that and just… _god_ in so fucking long. I've forgotten that I'm more than a mom and you reminded me that I'm much more than just that."

"Yeah, trust me, you weren't very mom-like last night," Sam tells her with an eye roll.

"And it was awesome," she smiles slickly, winking at him.

Sam finally loosens up when he sees it her way. She forgot who she was. Being a widow and a mom and a teacher for so long she forgot she was Lizzy, the former hunter that used to love nothing more than a night off with a six pack and some time to enjoy the opposite sex. She unleashed a more controlled and older version of that girl last night and it felt amazing.

"Alright, I'll admit… it was fun," Sam finally fesses up.

"Good!" Lizzy claps her hands together.

"And you're…." Sam pauses, narrowing his eyes. Lizzy just waits with a cocked eyebrow. "You're just really fun."

"Thank you very much," she bows jokingly, making Sam laugh a little. "And let me tell you, you're pretty damn fun yourself. I mean, I had no idea that I've been living with a tongue like that this whole time…."

"God, please don't say things like that," Sam closes his eyes.

"Why not!? It was a compliment. Seriously, tongue from the fucking gods." She nods knowingly, making sure he gets how deadly he can be.

"And it was a one-time thing," Sam tells her, finger wagging at her. "Never again. It'll get too messy."

"Fair enough," Lizzy nods. "Plus, someone told me I needed to get out there again. Maybe I'll join some bullshit dating site, huh?"

"Have fun with that," Sam laughs at her as he heads for the exit.

"I'm signing you up too!" she tells him as he heads for the door.

"Do that and you die!" he yells back and the front door shuts, Sam gone for the day.

Lizzy just laughs at him as she hears foot falls descending the stairs.

"Morning!" she shouts a she reaches for a bowl in the cupboard.

"Hey mom," Dean says, plopping his backpack in the middle of the floor and climbing into his kitchen table seat.

"We're out of Cheeri-O's," she says, kissing his forehead as she plops a bowl of Chex in front of him.

"Awww!" Dean complains.

"Deal with it," Lizzy rolls her eyes, getting out the milk.

"I don't like Chex."

"You did last month."

"And this month they suck," Dean says to her as she pours his milk.

"Whoa! Watch your mouth!" she scold him right away. "You don't talk like that in my house!"

"Sorry," Dean grumbles and picks up his spoon, huffing a pissy sigh with his first bite.

"What's going on with you?" Lizzy wonders, putting her own coffee together with the pot Sam made. "Why are you so cranky this morning?"

"I'm not cranky," Dean rebuts, the punch in his tone making him sound cranky.

"You are absolutely cranky."

"Babies get cranky. I'm just tired," he answers, leaning his cheek into his elbow propped arm.

Lizzy takes a seat across from him as he eats. She takes a good look at him. The circles under his eyes are there and he looks pretty out of it.

"Did you sleep well?" she wonders.

"No."

"Why?"

"Just… dreams."

"What kind of dreams?"

"They were… weird."

"Talk to me. How were they weird?" Lizzy pries, knowing he's off for a reason.

"It was just… creepy. There was a mean looking man and he was mad at us."

"Us who?"

"Me and you."

"I was there?" Lizzy keeps asking and trying to figure him out.

"Yep, but I couldn't see you. The man kept talking. He said things like, uh, you made a deal and it's your fault. And he kept asking if you wanted to get down. I don't know what you needed to get down from but it was super weird."

Lizzy's face pales with what he says. Hell. Alistair. He saw it. Why did he see it? And the memories of it all start to hit her like a freight train.

"I'm sure it's nothing, kiddo," Lizzy tries to calms his mind. "Just some bad dreams, right?"

"Yeah…." he trails off, poking at his cereal with his spoon.

She needs to get him on track. "Well, only one more school day and you, Sam, and I are going hiking. We'll pack a big lunch, hang out all day. It'll be nice."

"I know, mom," Dean says to her, smiling. His green eyes are so dull with exhaustion.

"Alright, if you're not hungry then you don't have to eat. I'll pack you a good snack and hopefully you're hungry later. Why don't you take a few minutes and lay down before we go, hm?"

"Ok," Dean answers, getting up and disappearing into his room for a little bit more time. As soon as he does, Lizzy takes out her cell phone and speed dials number one.

It only takes a couple rings.

"About damn time you gave us a call," Bobby tells her. "Thought you might be dead…."

"Something's wrong with Dean," Lizzy blurts out. "I think he's accessing Hell memories."

"What!?"

"He just told me he couldn't sleep because he had nightmares. Ones about a creepy man talking to me about making deals and getting down from a rack."

"A… rack?" Bobby says slowly, getting a picture of her time down in the pit for the first time. She refused to speak about it ever, holding it in and never wanting to mess someone else up with her horror stories.

"Doesn't matter," she tells him, not ready to rehash. "He didn't see anything bad, just, you know, a glimpse at what little down time I had."

"How is he remembering that?" Bobby wonders. "He wasn't even born yet."

"I don't know… shit, I don't know how it works down there with a fucking fetus," she starts to panic, the shaking in her tone making Bobby's heart ache with worry. "Bobby… he can't see what I went through. He can't." She takes a deep breath to stop the sobs from coming. "It'll destroy him. It's so bad…."

"Don't freak out on me," Bobby tells her right off. "You start freaking out then he'll really know something's up."

"Ok, ok…."

"First of all, has anything come for you guys lately?"

"No."

"Protection is all still up?"

"Of course."

"Good, alright," Bobby says, his relief somehow calming her a touch. "Then let me do some research. And I got a woman I can call. Maybe she'll know what to do."

"Whatever I need to do, Bobby," Lizzy says, her hand pressed to her forehead with worry for her son. "God, what if this…."

"Stop it right there," Bobby cuts her off. "We've handled every single thing that's come our way and you've protected that boy for eight years. There ain't nothing that you can't handle so the pity party stops before it begins, you hear me."

She takes a deep breath. "Loud and clear, Bobby. Thank you."

"Now, you just go about your day and let me handle this," he tells her. "I'll call you after you get out of school…."


	54. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 17)

**One Week Later**

Lizzy paces the room, wringing her hands with anxiety.

"When's she gonna be here?" Dean complains in the corner of the couch, his head propped on his hand with an elbow to the couch arm.

"Soon. Hang in there," Lizzy tells him, her nerves shot with how scared she is for this visit. She doesn't want there to be anything wrong with her little boy, not after all he's been through already. She's not ready for bad news, no more bad news.

"I wanna go to Shane's house," Dean grumps, knowing he was invited over for the day by Shane's mom and Lizzy said no because of some lady coming by to help him with his weird dreams. Boring.

"Dude, suck it up," Sam says to him, swatting his shoulder from where he sits next to him. "We're all stuck here today because of you. Take it down."

"I'm fine," Dean complains.

"You are _not_ fine," Lizzy gets very angry, hearing the echoing favorite lie of her husband in her son's lying tone. "You haven't slept well in days and therefore neither have I."

"Me neither," Sam adds in while still looking at Dean. "We're just worried about you. Maybe she can help us with this…."

The doorbell rings.

"Well, alright," Lizzy says with wide eyes, looking at Sam once before heading for the door, opening it without hesitation.

"Oh my word, is that little Lizzy!?" a warm, loud voice calls out the second she gets an eyeful of the young woman on the other side of the door.

"Hi, Missouri," Lizzy grins wide, immediately comforted by the kind and loving, all be it tough, woman she hasn't seen in years. She steps up and gives her a big hug.

"Honey, it's so damn good to see you," Missouri returns with, hugging back tightly. "It's been far too long." She backs off of the hug and looks her over, taking one of Lizzy's hands in between her own. "And aren't you as pretty as ever."

"Uh, thanks…."

"Oh, darling," Missouri's tone drops the second she gets a good read on her. "I had no idea it's been that hard."

"Oh, well… you know the life and how it goes…."

"Hunting doesn't have jack to do with it and you know it," the psychic denies. "I'm so sorry that you lost him."

Her eyes pop further out of her head. "I think I forgot how good you were," Lizzy huffs sadly.

"How dare you?" she smiles kindly as she jokes and steps into the house.

"Well, what about me?" Bobby gripes behind Missouri as he steps up once she's out of his way. "Am I just chopped liver these days?"

"Never," Lizzy smiles wide and hugs him tightly, the feeling of love and kindness overwhelming her. "I missed you, Bobby."

"I missed you too, hon. You know that," Bobby says quietly to her.

"Where's Karen?"

"She had to stay behind for Rufus. She's helping him out. It's killing her that I'm here though."

"Not surprised."

"She says she's owed a visit now," he warns her. He then tightens his hug, knowing how scared she is right now. "We'll figure this out, you hear me? We're not letting anything get to our boy."

She just nods against his shoulder, her choked voice unable to respond. She's just so relieved to have her mentor and ultimate professional here.

"You must be Sam," Missouri says as she walks over to the man standing up as she enters.

"That's me." He shakes her hand with a wide grin but doesn't see what a mistake it is until he watches her face fall once she's made skin contact, fear replacing the lovely happy expression she just had.

"I need to talk to you later," Missouri tells him in a suddenly stern, quiet voice. She wags an index finger at him, showing she means it. "Alone. You need to know several important things about yourself that I think you don't know just yet."

"What? I…."

"Later on," Missouri says to him as she rubs his shoulder to reassure him. She then moves on before Sam can ask anything further.

Missouri looks down at the bored looking boy on the end of the couch.

"You must be Dean," she says with a light, upbeat tone. "It's so very good to meet you, young man."

"Dean, on your feet!" Lizzy scolds when the sulking boy doesn't move at first.

He stands and looks at Missouri with an extended hand. "Sorry. Hi, Missouri."

Missouri shakes his hand and then eyes him hard. "Oh, stop your moping about. Going to Shane's house wasn't gonna be all that fun anyways. His new video game is a one player and dear, he wasn't planning to share. You're better off here, getting to know an older woman with the power to buy ice cream from the shop I passed on my way in."

Dean's little green eyes light up and blow wide with her spelling out everything she shouldn't know. "How did you know…?"

"Honey, what I know couldn't be fit in a library."

"Why are you so smart?" Dean needs to know.

"Some say it's luck… or that I was born this way," Missouri explains. "I say I just got _un_lucky." She laughs to herself and turns to Lizzy. "Handsome boy you have here."

"He takes after his dad," she smiles wistfully at the thought, eyeing her son's nearly perfect copy of her husband's features. Every bit of him, from the green of his wide eyes to the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, belongs to the man she's still so madly in love with.

"That he sure does," Missouri assures.

Lizzy looks at her funny, knowing Dean and she have never met.

"Bobby shows pictures like an old grandfather does," Missouri laughs at the man's expense. "You ever see his wallet? Good lord…."

"Shut up," Bobby gripes as he walks over to his grand kid. "Dean."

"Grandpa Bobby!" he yells when he sees the trucker hat coming his way. He runs to the man, almost plowing him over as he hugs him tightly around the waist.

"Whoa! Watch it, ya idjit," Bobby laughs a little and hugs back. "I'm getting old these days."

"You're not old," Dean tells him.

"I don't know. Most grandpas are old, aren't they?" Bobby challenges as he looks down at Dean.

"I guess," Dean shrugs, dropping it.

He lets Dean go from the hug and looks down at him. "How's things?"

"Good. We won the game last night," Dean tells him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Tell him how," Sam butts in, pride already in his voice.

"I hit a game winning home run," Dean says with a slick smile. "It was awesome."

"You did!?" Bobby asks with surprise.

"He really did," Lizzy nods with a huge grin. "I got it on video. I'll show you later." Bobby nods, impressed.

"And I got my last report card," Dean tells him and runs off to the kitchen, returning in just seconds with a paper in his hand. He shoves it at Bobby and Bobby happily takes a look. He smiles up until he sees one particular mark.

"What happened right here?" he asks, pointing to a 'Needs Improvement' on his classroom conduct.

"Aw, man. You were supposed to just look at the grades, Grandpa Bobby," Dean complains right away, knowing he's about to get it.

"I tried to but this 'Needs Improvement' mark right here distracted me," Bobby points out. "What happened?"

"I… I don't know…." Dean looks away.

"I do," Lizzy laughs at him and explains. "He has a hard time sitting still and keeping his trap shut for six hours a day."

"Who doesn't?" Bobby rebuts, on Dean's side.

"Oh, I understand that… but Sharleen mentioned to me at our conference that the real problems didn't begin until they moved desks and Dean here was sat next to Hayley Summer."

"Oh," Bobby says, getting it right away and look down at Dean as the boy sighs with pink cheeks. "So, how cute is she?"

"Gross. She's not cute," Dean denies right away, never making eye contact. He's so obvious.

"Sure seems like she's cute, making you get all chatty and ruining your report card like this," Bobby counters, pointing again to the bad mark.

"It's not ruined," Dean says with frustration. "Hay's just nice. Ok? And she didn't _make_ me get in trouble or nothing."

"Or anything," Lizzy corrects, wanting him to speak properly.

Dean's eyes roll. "Can we leave it alone about the girl already? And look at the rest of the report card?"

Bobby smiles at Dean's frustrations, unable to help it. He moves on and looks the rest of the card over. "All A's. Not too bad."

"Not too bad!?" Dean outrages. "I killed it!"

"Yeah, you did," Bobby gives in, ruffling Dean's hair. "Proud of you, son."

"Thanks!"

"Hey, I got an idea," Bobby tells him, handing back the report card that really did make him awfully proud. "Why don't we celebrate with some of that ice cream Missouri just mentioned? We can bring her and you can get to know her. She's a nice lady."

"Ok," Dean says with a shrug, never one to turn down a treat.

"Let me just get our coats," Lizzy says, heading for the coat rack.

"No, mom," Missouri stops her. "Just Dean's coat please."

"What? Why?" Lizzy asks, confused and not ready to have any conversations be had without her there, not concerning Hell and her past Dean knows nothing about.

"A boy is not gonna be open and honest with his mother staring him down," Missouri mentions. "I'll have Bobby with me…."

"He doesn't know anything," Lizzy tells her with a pleading and very quiet voice. "I don't want him knowing _anything_ about… the past and what I used to do. Not a thing."

"When do you plan to let him know what you really are then?" Missouri whispers as Bobby and Sam get Dean in the kitchen to put back his report card and put on a coat.

"Never if I can help it," Lizzy tells her right away. "And that's not who I am. It's who I _was_." She glances at the kitchen doorway, making sure Dean can't hear. "I'm a mom now. That's all I need to be."

"Well, you can take the girl out of the storm but that storm is always gonna kick back up, Lizzy," Missouri tells her. "The sky is always gonna just be waiting to open up and pour right on your head. He needs to be aware at some point. You're only hurting him by not telling him."

Lizzy looks ready to cry when she says all this. It's something she's denied for so long and truly feared. "I know, ok? I know he has to find out. I just… it's my fault that he's even here. I had a kid, I made that decision. That's not his fault…."

"But he's here," Missouri reminds her. "The what-if's are not what needs to be looked at. Look forward."

Lizzy nods. "Not yet. He's too young."

"When then?"

Lizzy wipes her eyes before the tears can escape. "Maybe… when he turns sixteen?" She sighs heavily. "I wanted to hand over the Impala when he was old enough to drive. It was Dean's car and I know he'd want his son to have it. It has a false bottom for weaponry and protection symbols painted under the trunk and hood… he'd have to know some things so that he could understand why that's there. Plus… he _should_ know at some point. I get that. I just wanted him to have a normal childhood before… it all fell apart."

"Fair enough," Missouri nods before yelling to the others, "You boys ready?"

"We are," Bobby answers and ushers Dean to the door with Missouri. He looks at Lizzy as she helps Dean into his jacket. "We'll be back soon enough. Maybe an hour."

"You watch him," she says sternly, making it clear that she wants Dean learning as little as he can about a world she doesn't want him in.

"You have nothing to worry about," Bobby tells her, kissing her cheek as they head out.

"Bye mom!" Dean yells behind him as he rushes out the door.

"I love you!" Lizzy yells to him quickly. When the door closes and the townhouse grows quiet, she sighs and stares at that door with full blown worry.

"Here," Sam cuts into her thoughts and when she turns to look at him he has a glass of wine waiting for her.

"Thanks," she says and grabs it, sipping deeply right away.

"So… crappy daytime TV for an hour?" he smirks at her and gestures to the couch, trying his best to make this time go by as easily as possible.

Lizzy smiles sadly up at him before grabbing his hand. "What would I do without you?"

"Yeah, I have no idea," he laughs at her and pulls her to the couch, sitting right next to her as they wait it all out… hands never unclasping.

* * *

"Think you're gonna finish all that?" Bobby has to ask as Dean digs into his three scoop sundae with more delight than he's ever seen on anyone… almost.

"Yup," Dean answers, hot fudge already on the corner of his mouth.

"Just like another man I once knew," Bobby jokes as he wipes the kid's mouth with a paper napkin. He really is so much like Dean it's eerie sometimes. "Except he had a thing for pie."

"Pie's cool," Dean lets his grandfather know.

"I'm sure it is," he trails off, sighing a bit. He misses the senior Dean just like Lizzy and Sam does, even if he only knew him for a few months.

"So, Dean," Missouri cuts in, slowly eating her own more modest single scoop of ice cream. "Your mom tells me you've been having some weird dreams lately."

"Yup," Dean answers succinctly once again, scooping more ice cream into his mouth.

"You keep eating like that you're gonna regret it," she warns.

Dean doesn't listen. He keeps shoveling.

"What is wrong with this boy?" Missouri gets annoyed as she asks Bobby. "Don't his ears work?"

"He heard you," Bobby laughs, sitting back in his chair and watching the glutton at work. "He just chose not to listen."

As soon as Bobby explains this they hear Dean groan. He drops his spoon and presses his palm to the bridge of his nose, in clear pain.

"Brain freeze. Serves you right," Missouri complains as she watches him try to wait it out. "You should listen to your elders, boy!"

Bobby just laughs.

"Not funny, Grandpa Bobby," Dean gets mad, knowing he could complain to Bobby but not to Missouri.

"I didn't say anything!" Bobby keeps laughing as Dean overcomes his painful moment.

"You gonna slow down now?" Missouri asks him, an edge to her voice.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean grumbles and picks his spoon back up, his pace noticeably slower.

"Good," Missouri smiles a little. She gives the kid a moment to eat, enjoying his ice cream at a more reasonable pace, before she starts in. "I'm curious."

"About?" Dean asks, eyes on his sundae at all times.

"You."

Now his eyes pop up onto the new woman. "Me!? Why me?"

"You have curious dreams," Missouri tells him honestly. "Can you tell me about them?"

Dean shrugs. "What do you want to know?" He takes another large bite.

"What are they about?"

"Not sure."

"Then what do you see?"

"In the scary ones… a man," Dean tells her easily enough.

"You have good ones too?" Missouri asks.

"Yeah."

"And you think they're special too, just like the scary ones?" Missouri wonders and Dean nods yes. "How do you know?"

"They feel real," Dean tells her, licking his lips coated in melted ice cream. "Like they happened for real."

"That's pretty special, people that get vivid dreams like that," Missouri tells him, now wondering if he's having visions or if they're just the memories his mother told her about. "Can you describe one for me?"

"The scary ones?"

"If you want."

"Uh, ok… there's a man in it every time," the boy starts to explain. "And he's always looking down at me, like I'm laying down or something, and I can't get up."

"What do you mean you can't get up?" Bobby wonders, his mouth working without his permission. He's too curious.

"I can't get up," Dean repeats. "Like… I can't move. I'm stuck there listening to the scary guy."

"What does he say to you?" Missouri asks.

"He says that I made a deal… but I don't get what that means," Dean tells her, still confused about the whole thing. "And he says that it's my fault I'm 'down here'."

"Do you know where here is?" Missouri wonders, hoping he doesn't.

"No, but it's crazy hot there… like Florida or something but without the fun stuff."

"Does he tell you anything else?"

"Um… he always seems mad at me… or at mom, really…."

"Your mom's with you?"

"Yeah, but I can't see her."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know… just with me, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I can hear her though."

"What does she say?"

"She…" he pauses and sighs. "I can't say it. I'll get in trouble."

"How about a freebee? Just this once," Bobby says with a wink, knowing younger Lizzy's language was colorful at the very least.

"Mom'll be mad…."

"I won't tell her, promise." Bobby hold out his pinky to Dean.

Dean just eyes Missouri.

"Count me in," she swears. "Won't say a word."

Sighing, Dean links his pinky with his grandfather's and shakes, their deal made. He then takes a deep breath. "She says things like… well, screw you then," Dean tests the waters. No one flinches or minds. He's not in trouble. Time to take advantage. "She calls the mean man an asshole a lot. And a dick. And a douche bag… sometimes an evil douche. And she says no a lot… and she tells him to go fuck himself, like, all the time!"

When a family of three walks by with a young daughter, they hear him and their faces show how appalled they are. They cover their daughter's ears and rush away.

"Sorry," Bobby nods at them with an apologetic smile. "Tourette's Syndrome."

"Dude, you told me I could say it!" Dean gives Bobby up.

Bobby looks at him angrily. "And you're not in trouble. Just keep it down, huh?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "All I know is I keep having a dream with the same mean man and mom getting mad at him, or crying." He suddenly looks terribly sad. "I hate when mom cries. I don't like it."

At first the adults don't know what to say to that.

"Me too, kid," Bobby says eventually, nudging his shoulder in solidarity.

"And every time I dream this I can't move and the mean man always asks if I want to get down and tells me to say yes."

"Yes to what?" Missouri pries.

"Getting down?" Dean says in question, not totally sure. "I think that's it. All I know is that guy really wants mom to say yes."

"So he's asking your mom, not you then?" Bobby wonders.

Dean has to think it through. "Yeah, I guess so. Maybe he's talking to her the whole time. Yeah, that's probably it. I think I'm just there with her."

Bobby scratches at his beard, eyes glancing at Missouri to let her know their fears are true. He's absolutely remembering Hell.

"The last time… he hurt me," Dean admits, getting quiet and dropping his spoon. "It always gets scarier every time but the last one… I didn't like that one."

"Well, Dean, you don't need to worry about that anymore," Missouri assures him. She places a hand over his where it's resting on the table in the ice cream shop. "When we get back I can make the scary dreams go away. For good."

"You can!?" Dean asks with shock.

"Oh yes. It's what I do."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a specialist," Missouri tries to explain. "I'm a psychic. I'm in tune with people and things that most others aren't. So I can fix these nightmares for you… if you want me to."

"I want that! Definitely!" Dean emphatically answers, ready to sleep again someday soon.

"Good." Missouri takes the advantage of having her hand on his to look further into him. The young boy is very pure, very true… but she can feel the taint in him from Hell. He wasn't fully affected but it's there. It's causing the dreams. She can block those… but the darkness left in him, though small, could be troublesome. "Dean, how about those good dreams?"

"What about them?" Dean asks, spoon once more in hand as he dives back into the rest of his sundae now that he knows Missouri is going to help him.

"What happens in those?" she wonders, having seen nothing in him that would cause such dreams.

"I'm not supposed to tell you that," Dean looks at her when he suddenly remembers he's spilling secrets. His expression is quite guilty… along with chocolatey.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not supposed to. It's a secret."

"We won't tell," Missouri winks, hoping he'll fall for it.

Dean stays tight lipped.

"Son, if it's a good thing then why is it a secret?" Bobby has to wonder. "I ain't never heard of a secret that wasn't about bad things."

"Present are good secrets," Dean rebuts with a tone.

"And eventually they get opened and the secrets out. And nothing bad happens. So… tell us about these good dreams. I wanna hear about them."

Dean freezes, clearly contemplating everything as he sits there, looking at the tiny bit of ice cream he has left. Why not tell? It's all good stuff and he trusts his Grandpa Bobby. And Missouri seems cool enough. "My friend visits me."

"Shane?" Missouri asks.

"No, Cass," Dean tells her, big scoop of soupy ice cream shoveled into his mouth.

"Who's Cass?" Bobby jumps in, the name ringing a vague bell.

"He's my friend."

"What's he look like?" Bobby keeps going.

"He's tall, but not like Uncle Sam. And he has dark hair. And he has a brownish coat he always wears… oh, and he's an angel."

The two adults stop everything with the easy way he says he's been having dreams about an angel. They need to process this. Missouri gets a little more concerned with how sheet white Bobby gets. He knows something.

"How do you know he's an angel, Dean?" Missouri asks, keeping her eyes on both the males at the table.

"He told me… and he showed me his wings."

"He did?"

"Yeah. I didn't believe he was an angel because that's, like, super crazy weird. But he showed me. So he's an angel."

Bobby remains quiet. Castiel. It has to be him. He knows it. He needs to get back to Lizzy and talk to her as soon as possible now.

"You know what?" he cuts in. "Why don't you eat up and we'll head back. Maybe Missouri can get to work on fixing your nightmares, huh?"

"Ok," Dean shrugs, digging into the very last of his ice cream.

* * *

"You all set, dude?" Lizzy asks as she takes a seat at the edge of Dean's mattress, her hand combing through his hair lovingly as she looks down at him. Dean's lying under his covers, ready for bed.

"I'm good," Dean says, lying a little bit. "Where are you and Grandpa Bobby going?"

"We just have to take care of something," Lizzy assures, her voice light and lacking in fear and anger despite feeling both those emotions quite deeply in the moment. "It's adult stuff. I'm saving you from boring to death by not telling you about it."

"Thanks," Dean smiles wide, his sarcasm strong these days, and it makes Lizzy grin back.

"So, Sam and Missouri are gonna stay here with you. If you need anything or you wake up in the middle of the night you can just get Uncle Sam, ok?"

"Sure," Dean answers easily. "I thought Missouri was gonna help me with my dreams."

"She is but only when you're asleep. You won't even know it's happening." She hopes. He better not wake up.

"When will you be back?"

"Before you wake up in the morning," she promises.

Dean just looks at her funny for a minute before sitting up in bed. Without warning, he leans onto her and hugs her tightly.

Lizzy's caught off guard. When Dean was little he'd hug her like this all the time. But then second grade hit and hugging your mom was not cool. She wraps her arms around her boy and leans her cheek onto his head. "What's this about, Dean?"

"I just want you to be careful," he tells her in a voice she rarely hears from him. It's his little boy voice.

"Why would you say that?" Lizzy worries, hugging her son tighter when his words make her further worried.

"My dreams make me scared for you," Dean admits, the day he's had being weird and the dreams he's had concerning for a child. "I don't want anything bad happening to you."

Lizzy kisses the top of his head and cups his little face. "Nothing bad is going to happen to me. Nothing. And you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm your mother. Nothing's happening to me because someone needs to keep you in line, you little jerk." She then squeezes his cheeks together until his lips purse like a fish.

"Not a jerk, mom," Dean says through guppy-mouth.

Lizzy laughs and kisses his puckered lips before letting go. "No, you're not a jerk. You're my good little boy."

"Ew…." Dean rolls his eyes with that.

"And I love you." Lizzy's heart could burst with how much she means it every time she says it to him.

"Love you too, mom," Dean tells her. He then points to his cheek and Lizzy gives him a kiss like always.

"You get some sleep," Lizzy tells him. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Ok. Goodnight," Dean says, slipping back under his covers and getting comfortable, tired from his day of visitors.

"Night, sweetie," Lizzy says as she leaves, keeping the door open a crack in case the nightmares hit before Missouri can get to him. She wants Sam to be in there quick to help him since they seem to be getting worse day by day.

When she gets downstairs she sighs as Bobby's there, duffle bag of supplies and weapons over his shoulder and ready. "You good to go?"

"Yeah," Lizzy lies right off. "Let's do this." She turns to Missouri and Sam sitting quietly with their coffee mugs at the kitchen table. "If anything goes wrong you call me right away."

"Nothing with go wrong, Lizzy," Missouri assures. "Been at this kind of thing for longer than you've been outta diapers."

"I know… I just worry," she glances at the staircase, wanting to stay.

"I'm here. Nothing to worry about," Sam smiles at her. "Get outta here so you can get back soon."

"Ok," she nods and heads for the door. She pauses. "Thank you, Missouri."

"Anytime. Anything to help a good family," she waves them off.

She and Bobby leave the townhouse.

* * *

"You think he'll answer?" Lizzy asks, standing next to Bobby as he finishes pouring oil from a very old, very expensive clay urn.

"He better," Bobby laughs, finishing the circle on the old baseball diamond behind an elementary school that is no longer in use. "This stuff cost me my favorite Japanese history of the supernatural book and a favor to be called in at a later date."

"Shit, seriously?" Lizzy asks, upset that she's costing him so much.

"It's alright, Liz," Bobby reminds her as he corks the urn and places it in the duffle bag. "Nothing cost more than Dean's safety. I'm happy to help."

She looks down at her shoes when she knows their preparations are in place. "So I guess this is where I pray."

"All on you."

Lizzy closes her eyes and clasps her hands, not used to this at all. She's not believed in a higher power since her family was killed… and definitely hasn't had faith in the whole concept after Dean died and she discovered there actually _was_ a higher power that was totally sucky.

"Alright, uh… Dear Castiel, I guess. I need to talk to you. It's about my son. Are you there?"

Once done she opens her eyes and looks around. Nothing. Glancing at Bobby, he just shrugs. She stays facing the circle that's nearly invisible in the grass and keeps trying.

"Castiel, please. You told me if I ever needed anything I could just pray for you. I'm, uh, hoping this is how praying works since I've never really, you know, _prayed_ before…. Where are you?"

"I am here," Castiel announces immediately following the sounds of light, whooshing wind and when her lids lift she can see him standing just a few feet in front of her and Bobby… and just beautifully inside their circle.

"H-Hi, Castiel," Lizzy says nervously.

"Hello, Elizabeth," she smiles slightly. "I'm sorry it took a moment. I've been… highly busy."

"With what?"

Castiel just sighs. "It has been difficult these past few years. It's quite a long story."

"What's going out there?" Lizzy has to wonder, Bobby having been beat to the question himself. "I mean, demons are everywhere these days, or at least that's what Bobby says…."

"They are," he supports her. "Strong demons at that."

"And there's just super weird shit happening for years now… since about when Dean was born."

"I feel you've both called on me for a good reason other than this," Castiel butts into her questioning. "As you have been quiet for years, never once praying for me when I told you to whenever you needed, I feel that explaining all that you've miss in said eight years would take too much time."

Bobby looks to Lizzy, asking if he should light 'em up when the angel gets a little huffy. Lizzy shakes her head no.

"Why did you pray for me?" Castiel asks.

"I think we need to discuss you visiting my son at night, Castiel… or should I say, Cass?"

The bite in her tone paired with his use of the nickname Dean uses for him makes Castiel's face drain of color. He avoids her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"My son told me," Lizzy tells him. "I know all about it. How you show up a few times a week, talk to him about life and how he's special and important… how you told him to never tell me about these visits."

"I feared your response would be negative."

"You're damn right I'm responding negatively!" Lizzy gets loud. "What the hell right do you have speaking to my son like that? In secret and telling him to lie to me!?"

"Please calm yourself, Elizabeth," Castiel tries, hands out in surrender.

"No! I'm not going to calm myself!" she shouts now. "Dean is my son! _My_ son! Not your bestie! You can't just invite yourself into his life like that!"

"Like I did with you?" Castiel asks, defiantly spilling her real past.

"What?" Lizzy asks, it being her turn to pale with shock and fear.

"I once told you I was with you throughout your life," Castiel explains. "That was not an exaggeration or a lie."

"You saying you used to… visit me as a kid?" she has to wonder.

"At night, in your dreams. Just like I do Dean," Castiel explains. "We used to speak about your day at school or how much you adored dance class… how annoyed you were when your sister would do something to get under your skin. You always admitted you still loved her though, by the end of our chat. It was quite lovely, really."

"Why don't I remember this?" Lizzy has to know, having zero recollection of him from her earlier years.

"I was forced to have you forget," Castiel explains, eyes downcast and sad. "It was one of the hardest things I've had to do. I cherished our time together and the bond we'd built. Having you lose that… wasn't easy for me."

"Boo-hoo," Bobby gets mad. "You gatecrashed her childhood dreams. That's intrusive."

"And dishonest," Lizzy points out. "How am I supposed to be kosher with you doing this to Dean if you've been so sneaky and conniving with me? I mean, dude! You straight high jacked my childhood dreams. That's fucked up."

"I can see how you'd feel that way…."

"But!?"

"But… I told you who Dean is. He's my Father's vessel…."

Lizzy panics right away with the scary word. "You were actually serious about that? God's gonna come down here and _wear_ my _son_!? That's what you were talking about before he was born!?"

"God is not a demon," Castiel gets slightly offended. "Do not compare my Father to the lowest for of existence…."

"He's going to possess my son, is He not?" Lizzy challenges, needing to understand the difference if there is one. "He's gonna jump my boy and wear him?"

"In so many words… yes," Castiel answers slowly.

"Then fuck him!" Lizzy yells, taking a giant step forward as she points accusingly at him. "He is _not_ taking my son away!"

"Please calm yourself…."

"That boy is my whole fucking world!" she tells him, marching forward until she shoves him in the chest. "He's all I have left!"

Castiel calmly reaches out and presses two fingers to her forehead and she drops instantly like a sack of sleeping bricks on the dirt mound of the baseball diamond.

"Lizzy!" Bobby shouts, rushing for her.

"She's just fine, I assure you," Castiel tells him, his hands out in surrender as he watches Bobby dive to the floor to check on her.

"And I should trust you why?" Bobby fires out as he lists Lizzy's head off the ground and shakes her cheek a little to try and rouse her.

"Did I or did I not pull her from the fire and deliver her back to you… Dean in tow?" Castiel asks, a dangerous tone reminding Bobby of all he's done for the man. "I pulled her from hell at the risk of dying. Does that not prove it?"

Bobby ignores the question as he looks down at Lizzy. "Liz, hon. Wake up…."

"She will wake up when I wake her," Castiel tells Bobby. "She was getting too enraged to have a respectful discussion with. She needed a moment to cool down."

"She doesn't need a time out, wings. She needs her son safe… something you seem quite opposed to helping with."

Castiel sighs, rolls his eyes in frustration, and leans down. He once more presses his fingers to her head and she blinks awake.

Lizzy inhales deeply and starts to sit up with the help of Bobby. He gets her to her feet as the angel asks, "Are you prepared to speak in a civilized manner now?"

Shaking the clouds from her head as she collects herself after such a moment, Lizzy looks at Castiel with an angered face. "What was that?"

"You seemed like you needed a moment to calm down."

"I need…. Fuck…" Lizzy complains, not sure where her head is now. "Give me a minute."

"I do not have time…."

"Yes you do!" Bobby suddenly yells. "You made her fog up in the first place, you can wait until her mind sets straight."

As Lizzy rubs at her temples, Castiel sighs and looks around the space, annoyed. He has much to do and this is taking more time and he was ready for.

"You alright?" Bobby asks, hands on her shoulders as he tries to nonchalantly move her back and out of the circle of holy oil they made. Lizzy just goes with it as she returns fully to the present situation.

"Yeah, I'm good," Lizzy nods, and Bobby drops his arms to his sides and turns to Castiel.

"Why?" Bobby asks sternly. "Why visit Dean now? What are you after?"

"Preparation," Castiel says simply. "He needs to know of his importance so that when the time comes he takes on his responsibility with confidence and pride."

"That's it?" Bobby wonders. "Just prepping him to be a friggin' vessel?"

"Yes."

They both know that can't be it. Lizzy looks to Bobby and nods. He knows what to do. With a quick flick of the wrist he has the lighter open.

"I'm not buying it," Bobby tells the angel as he lights and drops the Zippo. The ring of oil lights up around Castiel's feet and they both watch as his eyes blow wide with worry and fear.

"What are you…?" he starts and quickly it all sinks in. He stares Lizzy down. "Let me go."

"No."

"Elizabeth, Heaven needs me!" he booms out. "We are at war!"

"With who!?" Lizzy asks loudly right back.

"With…." Castiel sighs, looking away. "It's complicated."

"Well, we've got all the time in the world right now so you better explain and you better make sense," Bobby tells him, pulling a fire extinguisher out of the Impala trunk that still open next to them. "Or else you're missing that war of yours."

Castiel sighs again. "I am not some low level demon you can trap…."

"I beg to differ. You're looking pretty damn trapped right now," Lizzy challenges, arms crossed over her chest. "Start talking."

The angel stares at her, his face suddenly far less scary and far more pathetic and pleading. "Please, Elizabeth…."

"Talk!"

He closes his eyes. He's stuck. He underestimated the hunter-gone-domestic for eight years and he has no other choice. "Are you aware of the Nephilim?"

"The half-angel, half-human giants?" Bobby asks, recognizing the term even if Lizzy doesn't.

"Not giants. That was a gross exaggeration," Castiel explains. "Years ago the Nephilim came to be when the watchers fell in love with the daughters of the first men. They created hybrids and my Father was furious. They were abandoned on Earth, forced to wander until they died a human life. When Lucifer was banished also he tortured these fallen angels and twisted them into the first demons out of fury for his punishment. Azazel was among those."

Lizzy and Bobby's faces drop, arms hanging by their sides as this story of the truth unfolds.

"The Nephilim line was concentrated down over the years, culminating into one person that has an abundance of angel DNA in her."

"Her?" Lizzy asks, stomach dropping. Some things are making sense now.

"Elizabeth, did you or did you not feel me on my way here… when you prayed to me?"

She nods, having had a weird sensation, her chest pulling in the direction towards the being as he flew in.

"And didn't you feel the connection to your son before he was born?" Castiel keeps going, her eyes widening as he looks at her. "Dean has much of that lineage in him also."

"Shit," Lizzy closes her eyes.

"This is a good thing," Castiel smiles. "He is pure, good, he has a certain amount of grace in him that will help him on his journey. And as for the demons… much like we have a plan, so do they."

"What is it?" Bobby asks.

"Azazel was a clever, smart demon, ancient and with plenty of time to figure out how to get what he wants."

"Wait, _was_?" Lizzy asks. "The dude that put demon blood in Sam's system is dead?"

"I made sure of it," he tells her, danger in his voice. "You need not worry about him. However, he did complete much of his work before I was able to kill him. He opened the door."

"To?" Lizzy asks.

"Hell."

And Bobby gets it. "That's why the demons are going apeshit out there… and that's why a while back I ran into the same piece of shit demon that attacked Karen and Rufus exorcized years ago?"

"Yes," the angel nods. "We tried so hard to prevent it. But we couldn't. And when the door was opened… Lilith was let out."

"The demon… Lilith?" Bobby shakes out, Lizzy confused as he clearly understand what this means.

"Lucifer's first," Castiel nods. "The oldest and most powerful demon there is… and she's trying to let her own father free."

"What does that mean?" Lizzy asks, fear running wild through her body.

"There are sixty-six seals on the Cage my Father imprisoned Lucifer into. Slowly but surely she and her hoard are unlocking them bit by bit. That is the war. The demons are trying to start the Apocalypse and we, the angels, are trying to stop it. That is what you're currently keeping me from doing!"

Lizzy peers down at her shoes, feeling horrible about doing exactly that. But she needs to know. She can make this quick.

"Is Sam out of the clear?" she wonders, knowing how tied into all this he was supposed to be. "He was meant to lead the demon army…."

"It appears Lilith has taken his place," Castiel explains. "As long as he has been left alone it seems there is no danger there."

"And what does this have to do with Dean?"

Castiel nods slowly. "Once the Apocalypse begins, Lucifer and Michael will have their battle. After that… God will ascend from Heaven and need his vessel. Considering the angel DNA in his system and the Biblically linked line he has from his father and the Winchester side of him… he's perfect."

Lizzy covers over her eyes with her hands. "If Michael wins then what's the need for that!?"

"If Michael wins God will need to walk the Earth, taking the good and the true believers to the fields of the Lord to rest for eternal paradise."

"And if Michael don't win?" Bobby questions.

"Then… there is a chance the Second Coming will be needed more than ever. He will need to do what he must to save those that he can from…."

"Lucifer?" Bobby assumes.

"No. The Anti-Christ."

"My head hurts," Lizzy says, on the verge of tears. "Shit. What the hell?"

"Now let me go," Castiel demands when he's had enough. "I would prefer to be fighting on the front lines and preventing Armageddon then be here trapped like some evil being."

Lizzy huffs a few nervous, frightened breaths. She looks right at the angel. "You stop visiting Dean in his dreams. He's a mess. He hasn't slept in a week since you started this crap and I think you shook loose some Hell memories. Please… let him sleep."

Castiel shifts from foot to foot with impatience. "Fine."

"And… when I pray… you come," Lizzy tells him. "I mean it. I may need help and, as much as I hate admitting this… I may need _your_ help now and then."

And for the first time, Castiel's face actually softened to a sweet and adoring place. "I will always be there for you, Elizabeth. Always. Don't ever question that."

She believes him for whatever reason, can feel it in her bones that he's speaking the truth. She then nods at Bobby to put out the flames. He does so, walking around the circle and dousing it with the extinguisher until the fire is out. The moment he's free Castiel is gone in a whoosh of air.

"Jesus… fuck," Lizzy lets out as it all begins to weight on her hard. Her hands on her hips, she looks around before settling on Bobby. Her eyes are already filling up. "What the fuck do I do, Bobby?"

He doesn't answer because he isn't sure how to at first.

"I mean… how do I fight that?" she starts to sob with how lost she is. "How do we fight off God!?"

"Not sure right this second… but we will," Bobby tells her, walking towards her after dropping the extinguisher.

"How!?" she starts to panic.

"Don't know yet but we will," he promises as he pulls her in tight, hugging her hard through this horrifying moment. "Lizzy, I haven't let you down yet. You listen to me."

With her chin on his shoulder, she shakes and cries and listens.

"If you think I'm gonna let anyone, and I mean anyone, take that boy away from you then you gotta be out of your damn mind," he tells her with nothing short of sheer conviction. "Our family ain't big but we got heart. And we're smarter than most. We hit the books and we prepare. Nothing is taking Dean from us."

Lizzy cries harder at the most awful, terror-filled thought. Losing her boy. She lost her husband and still has no idea how she didn't die with the feeling of his loss. Losing her little boy? There could be nothing worse.

"He's ours… and he's staying with us, Lizzy," Bobby promises, the fear and anger mixing up in his gut. He wants to scream. He wants to throw up or find something to beat the snot out of. But instead he holds his daughter there and they deal with this information together.

No matter what he says, though, Lizzy's never been this scared. "I already lost one…."

* * *

"How'd it go?" Sam asks, standing up with anxiety as Missouri comes down the stairs and joins him in the living room. He drops his open files on the coffee table and focuses on the psychic.

"Ooh, child. Calm down," she waves him off and plops onto the couch. Sam joins her again. "Everything is just fine. That boy will be just fine."

"So… no more Hell nightmares?" Sam asks, hopeful.

"No, sir," Missouri assures like it's no big deal that she's helped in such a large way. "I wiped those memories right out of his head. He probably won't even remember them at all come tomorrow morning."

He lets out a hard breath. "Great. Wow. Thank you… so much," Sam relieves, his face dropping from the stressful expression he's had since she arrived.

"You care about that boy a whole lot, don't you?" she asks, looking over at him and reading him clearly. His love is very strong for his nephew, stronger than she's ever seen out of a man that isn't a father.

"Yeah, I mean… yeah," he huffs a laugh. "He's all I have left of my brother. And knowing how great a dad Dean would have been… I want to do what I can to make sure his son gets what he deserves in life. And what he missed out on."

"You mean a like father would?" Missouri asks, arching an eyebrow and knowing he views himself as that in a way.

"I'm not Dean's father," Sam automatically answers.

"But you feel a bit like you are," Missouri tells him. "And you feel responsible for him, like a father would."

Sam nods, looking down at the coffee table. He always feels weird about that thought. Dean is his father. Sam is not. Simple as that. But he's tried to give Dean Junior all he can in his father's absence. It's an odd balance.

"And… you've maybe gotten a little familiar with Dean's momma much like his father did too."

Sam head whips up and eyes wide land on Missouri. She laughs at him.

"I ain't telling anyone," she promises, smiling wide. "Calm down, Sam. Two good looking young people as yourselves, I'm surprised it took so long. Held out for over eight years. Ooh. Impressive."

"You can tell… that?" Sam asks incredulously.

Missouri just smirks at him. She can.

"I'm not trying…" Sam starts but she finishes for him.

"To take Dean's place? Oh, I know that," she assures. "You couldn't even if you tried. That girl is still so wrapped up in Dean that she's never gonna find another man. It's good that you gave her a night off though. We women… we need that reminder now and then."

Sam rubs at his face with embarrassment.

"Don't you get all shy on me, Sam," she tells him. "You did a good thing. She had fun, felt like a real woman… and you had some fun too. We're all adults here."

"Great," he sarcastically responds. Humiliation.

"And since you love this little family of yours so much I need you to do something very important for me."

When she gets serious, sitting up tall and angling to look right at him, Sam follows suit and listens well.

"I need you to go away and never contact them again."

Sam's face drops further, finding somewhere low and horrified to go, and he can only manage to squeak out, "What?"

"You know it's in you, dear," Missouri starts. "You can feel it. Something deep in you, something impure and evil. It lurks. It burdens you. And it won't go away."

Sheet white skin, Sam swallows hard. "You saw it in me, didn't you?"

She smiles sadly, knowing by his tone how aware he is of everything she just said. "I did. You know about it?"

"For years. It's how I met Lizzy. Bobby told me. It's demon blood."

"I see," she nods, knowing the story of Azazel and his children. "Well, ain't the three of you all kinds of mixed up in the horrors of the world. You mind?"

She points to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table and Sam nods. He pours her a good helping and hands it over, pouring more for himself. They both take large sips.

"Let me tell you what I saw when I read you," Missouri begins, always hating this part of her gift. Telling people everything they don't want to know is a terrible burden on her. "I saw that darkness and, right now, you have it contained."

He nods, knowing it's true.

"You've always had it in check but you've always known it's there. Most of you is very good. You, as a whole, feel light and pure. You're a good man, Sam. And I think the life you've lead proves just that."

"I hope that's true," Sam tells her, his heart pounding as he listens.

"It most definitely is," Missouri promises. "However, you have a dark spot on you. That is what concerns me. It's small but it's strong and I can't be sure you'll be able to keep it under control for the rest of your life. You are just a human, Sam. You're corruptible like the rest of us. If you let the wrong type of thing into your life… I'm certain you could turn into someone else completely. And if you do I doubt you want to be around this little family of yours. Dean looks up to you, Sam. He thinks you're the coolest damn thing since sliced bread and pizza."

Sam smiles mournfully, the compliment a good one despite the fear he now feels. But that dread that's always in his chest, never going away his entire life, now frightens him dearly. He can't leave his family, they're his everything. But he can't put them at risk.

"Are you sure I'll turn?" Sam wonders. "Is it a certainty?"

"I can't see that far," Missouri admits. "I'm good but I'm not that good. I just know you'll be tested. I don't know how you'll fare. I'm just… I'm worried. You're future worries me."

"Me too," Sam sits back on the couch and thinks, swallowing hard. He's horrified by this. "I… what do I do?"

"I already gave you my opinion," Missouri reminds him, sipping her whiskey. "Past that… it's up to you. I suggest you talk to Lizzy about it though. She should know who she's living with."

"Probably," Sam nods, life suddenly looking a lot different than it did just a few minutes before.

"But before then," Missouri starts, killing her whiskey and picking up the bottle. "I say we drink until the two angel-seekers get back. Hm?" She asks but she doesn't wait for an answer. She pours more whiskey into Sam's glass anyways, knowing he'd need it.

* * *

It was a weird night. After returning to the townhouse, Missouri caught Lizzy up on how it went with Dean. She said she took care of the issue and Lizzy thanked her profusely. They then went over everything Castiel told her as a group. Once that was done and some more whiskey was drank, Bobby and Missouri left for the night. They were staying around the corner and Bobby promised to be back to take them all to breakfast before heading back.

And now, as her alarm goes off on a Sunday morning so that she'll be awake before Dean, Lizzy sighs. She's exhausted. Emotionally, physically… her entire being is tired. But hopefully her boy will wake up rested and happy unlike the previous eight days in a row.

Pulling on some jeans and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt she's had for years, she heads downstairs and starts the coffee maker. She's a little hung over but hey, whiskey after summoning an angel and discovering the horrible truth of her son's future will make that happen.

Lizzy's shocked to see Sam already standing in the kitchen, leaning his back into the counter top and waiting for the coffee to finish brewing with a mug in hand.

"Good morning," Lizzy says lightly, Sam mid-yawn.

"Hey," he says when done. "Morning."

"You look like shit," she laughs a little and grabs her own mug from the cupboard next to Sam's head.

"You're so kind," he snaps a little back.

"Just being truthful," she smiles, standing next to him and also leaning into the counter top. "Didn't sleep?"

"Not really."

"Worried about Dean?"

"Yeah," Sam nods, but his worries aren't exactly what she's thinking.

"Me too," Lizzy nods, hearing the coffee maker finish up. She turns around and grabs the pot, pouring Sam's first. "But I have faith in Missouri. I think he's gonna be ok."

Sam just watches her brown eyes lock onto his, smiling innocently and with no idea who it is she's really standing next to. "Hey, ah… before Dean gets up, can we sit down for a second?"

Lizzy's face grows serious instantly. "What's wrong?" she predicts right away. She's knows him too well.

"Just need to talk to you about something," Sam tells her, shrugging to make it seem less urgent. "Figured it's be easier without Dean around."

She narrows her eyes a moment. "Not sure I'm ready for more shitty news."

"Who said anything about shitty news?" Sam denies.

She just looks at him blankly before walking for the kitchen table. "You're a shit liar."

Sam huffs a sigh and joins her, sitting in what has become their usual seats next to each other at the table. Lizzy grips her coffee in both hands, elbows on the surface, and waits.

Sam settles in, sips his own mug, and chooses to stare at the boring ceramic with Escondido Elementary School printed on it. "I need to move out."

Lizzy's face wrinkles up with the thought. "Uh… what?"

"It's time for me to get my own place." Sam says it again to the mug and takes a sip, avoiding her eyes.

"This about the night last week?" Lizzy wonders, voice going lower. "It was just sex, Sam…."

"No. No," Sam assures. "That… we talked about that. It was once. We're good."

"Good." Lizzy nods nervously as the idea that he wants to move out settles in. "Um… so… you just, what? Up and decided you wanna move out?"

He doesn't want to lie to her. He hasn't since they moved in together. It was their rule. Be honest. But he feels he must lie for her and Dean's sake. "Yeah. Yeah, I think eight years is a long time. Dean is older now, he's easier to handle…."

"You're lying," Lizzy tells him calm as can be, smiling just slightly at him when she knows the truth.

"I'm not… lying…."

"You paused! And your voice went up!" she points at him accusingly. "You're totally lying."

"Fine, I'm lying," Sam rolls his eyes.

"Wait, why are you lying about wanting to move?" she instantly has to know. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Sam answer.

She just looks at him with annoyance. "_Stop lying_."

"Shit," he complains. "Look, Missouri saw some things about me that she… didn't like."

"Like?"

"The demon blood," he tells her. "She called it a dark spot, or something like that. She thinks… I'll give into it."

"What's that mean?" Lizzy wonders, brow furrowed in worry.

"I don't know much. She just thinks I'm corruptible and that the darkness will eventually take over." Sam finally meets her eyes. "Missouri told me that if I loved you guys as much as she thinks I do then I should move away and never contact you again. To keep you safe."

"What!? Fuck that!" Lizzy gets angry.

"Lizzy, calm down…."

"No!" she denies him. "Did she say for sure that you'd go dark side?"

"No exactly…."

"What does she know?"

"She just knew that it was possible that I end up turning into… not me. If I let the wrong thing into my life… and let it corrupt me."

"Oh!" Lizzy relieves and smiles. "Screw it. You'll be fine!"

"How do you know that?" Sam challenges.

"You're stronger than that," Lizzy huffs out, sure of it. "Dude, you're stronger than anyone else I know! You can fight that easy."

"I'm not as confident as you are," Sam admits to her.

"Sam, you're not moving out just because you're afraid of something that will never happen, not on my watch. If I'm with you then I can help you watch out for anything that might want to turn you bad."

Her confidence and her wording once more reminds him of his brother. She does that now and then. They were always similar in some aspects, or maybe just very in tune with each other. It's oddly comforting.

"I will never put Dean in danger." Sam sticks to his guns. Dean's life can't be on him.

"Of course you won't!" Lizzy laughs hard. "Can you imagine doing anything bad to him!? I mean, come on!"

Sam cracks a smile when he sees the ridiculousness of it all. "No, I can't." He laughs a little. "Seems absurd."

"It is!"

"But Missouri is really good," Sam reminds her. "I trust her judgment."

"Oh, so do I!" Lizzy agrees easily. "But still. She didn't see it for sure. I doubt this is something to worry about. You're good, Sam. Nothing but good."

"Isn't that what you told me that Thursday night?" Sam asks slowly, eyes narrowed on her.

It gets silent for a moment as Lizzy thinks his words over. Her mouth turns up a little. "Holy shit. An actual joke. About sex. From Sam Winchester."

He just grins wide.

"Maybe you _are_ changing!" Lizzy points out and Sam laughs.

"That's not evil though."

"No… sinful maybe, but not evil," she smirks.

"Sinful, huh?" Sam asks, getting more comfortable with their past indiscretion. "How do you figure?"

"That tongue was pretty damn sinful…."

"Hey!" they hear a smaller voice interrupt and Lizzy stops mid-crude sentence. They both look to Dean as he walks towards them from the staircase.

"Hey, kiddo!" Lizzy says with an upbeat voice, dropping the conversation where it was. She shares a smirk and glance with Sam that fights an amused smile. Almost caught.

Lizzy takes one look at her already clothed for the day son and she's shocked.

"Wait, who are you?" Lizzy asks with a suspicious look as Dean sits at the table with them. "You kind of look like my son… but you're already dressed on a Sunday morning."

"Ha-ha, mom," Dean rolls his eyes.

"And I didn't have to wake you up!"

"I get it, ok?" Dean says, giving her a stubborn face when she pushes him in the shoulder lightly.

"You look well rested today," Sam says to him, sipping more coffee.

"Yeah. No nightmares," Dean smiles a little.

"Good!" Lizzy grins wide. "You slept all night?"

"Like a baby, mom," Dean answers her and he can tell how happy that makes her. "And you can stop worrying so much now."

"I'm not gonna stop worrying for the rest of my life!" she laughs at the thought. "I'm your mother. That's what I do."

"It's annoying," he tells her and quickly changes the subject by moving on. "When's Grandpa Bobby getting here?"

"We're meeting him at the diner," Lizzy reminds. "Half hour."

"Aw," Dean groans and grabs his stomach. "I'm so hungry!"

"What's new?" Sam jokes and kicks the kid under the table. Dean instantly gives him an angry face and kicks back. "Ow!" Sam shouts.

"Already got my sneakers on, bro!" Dean raises his hand up with pride.

"Don't kick your uncle!" Lizzy gets mad and stands up, getting him something to tide him over.

"He started it!"

Lizzy hangs her head and pauses in front of the open refrigerator. A deep sigh out, she says to herself, "You know, I could have sworn I only had _one_ child…."

"You're hilarious," Sam says to her as he balls up a napkin and throws it at Dean, the kid batting it away before it hits his face.

"But every day I feel like I am living with _two_ kids," Lizzy finishes her thought and grabs the milk.

"Stop it!" Dean yells when another napkin ball sails his way, this time getting him in the forehead.

"Make me," Sam laughs lightly, swatting the returning napkin before getting another kick under the table. "Dude!"

"Told you to stop!" Dean shouts and swings his feet some more.

"You shouldn't hurt your elders, Dean!" Sam says with a bright smile, slouching in his chair to extend his leg's reach, an all-out leg war under the table started.

"You're gonna regret that!" Dean tells him when he kicks with all his little might, sneaks versus bare feet his advantage.

"Alright!" Lizzy shouts as she pour chocolate sauce into a glass of milk and stirs. "Knock it off! You're both gonna be all bruised up."

"Not my fault," Dean grumbles, planning ahead for the rest of the day. He'll retaliate. He will. He always does when Sam starts crap with him.

"It's both of your dumb faults," Lizzy tells then and places the milk in front of Dean, blue curly straw and all. "I expect you to someday stop taking the bait from him, hm?"

Dean wisely shuts up and blows a couple bubbles before taking a big pull on the straw.

"And you… maybe you _should_ do what you proposed," Lizzy says without any actual intent. "I need to separate you two _kids_."

Sam smiles at that. After just five minutes with both Lizzy and Dean he knows he can't move. It felt like the only option after their night and everything Missouri warned him of, but leaving this feels quite impossible now. "Nah. You're not getting rid of me so easily."


	55. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 18)

**Eight Years Later**

"How's it feel?" Lizzy asks, grinning wide from the passenger side. When she looks across the front bench seat her heart skips a beat at the frighteningly perfect sight.

"Awesome," Dean Junior grins wide as he grips the leather wheel with total relish. He's been waiting for this day for so long it's ridiculous. But it's finally here. One try, one single driver's test, and he passed with flying colors.

Now he's getting his reward. The Pearl Jam on the tape deck, the windows rolled down with a fall breeze coming through, sitting in the one seat he's been dying to legally sit in since he was a kid… this day rocks. He finally knows what it's like to drive the ever-perfect Chevrolet Impala his mother's been carting him around in his whole life. He can drive it himself now. He can take her for a spin on the weekend by himself if he wants… and if his mom lets him, of course. That's a beautiful thing.

"You look good in that seat," Lizzy giggles at him heartily, laughing so that she doesn't start to cry as she watches how he readjusts the rearview mirror at a stop light. Every turn he makes is smooth, every precaution taken, and his respect for the classic car is clear as day. She knows for sure now that she can absolutely trust him with the almighty Baby. "Can you do me a favor?" Lizzy asks, knowing their next stop is coming up.

"What's that?" a now sixteen year old Dean asks his mom, looking at her with bright green eyes light up by the sunlight, his smile never brighter before now. He's happy. She's done her job well so far.

"Pull in up there," she points through the windshield.

Dean's face wrinkles. "Pull into the… dealership?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Just do what I asked, huh?" Lizzy gets impatient and soon enough the turn signal is on. Dean pulls into the lot and Lizzy gets out quickly.

"What are we doing here?" Dean asks his mother, getting out also and watching her walk around the bumper towards him.

"I'm doing something I've been waiting to do for roughly sixteen years," she explains, grabbing his hand with the Impala key in it. She closes it over with both of her hands and looks at her little boy, now a half foot taller than her and with miles to go. He's a total Winchester. "Baby's a beautiful girl and she meant the world to your father." She can feel her throat getting thick with the thought of the man.

"I know, mom," Dean smiles, trying not to laugh at how emotional she gets every single time she mentions his dad. He knows better than to laugh right now and he's aware of how in love his mom still is.

Lizzy's eyes water over. "And I know you love her too… as much as he did."

"Been dying to drive her forever, you know that," Dean answers back, heart pounding when he starts to think he might know where this is going.

"Take good care of her," Lizzy tells him, taking her hands back to wipe her eyes. "That's my one stipulation. I don't have much left of your dad but this… this was his pride. Make sure she's always running perfectly. Wax her every three months. _Don't_ modify her. Don't _ever_ take out the tape deck. _Respect her_. You do all that…." She swallows hard. "She's yours." Lizzy then presses a hand over her mouth as she gives in. She's been so excited to do this but at the very same time it hurts so damn much. She wishes that his father could have done this himself.

"Mom," Dean laughs out her name kindly as he moves in and hugs her hard, letting his mother have her moment. His father's death is clearly still the hardest thing she deals with on a daily basis and he's been gone for sixteen years. He knows that love had to have been real.

"He would have loved you so much," Lizzy cries out against her boy's shoulder. "You would have been his whole world."

"I know, mom. You tell me all the time," he reminds her.

"I love you so much," she adds in, sniffling.

"I love you too," Dean smiles, pulling her tighter. He really does. Most children aren't all that grateful for their parents, seeing them as embarrassing or unfair for petty reasons. Adversaries. Dean has never been one of those kids. From very early on he understood that his mother was something very special. She raised him without a father (of course, with the help of his Uncle Sam) and she did it well. Very well. He's never wanted for anything and he's never been anything short of happy. She's a better mother than he could have ever hoped to have.

Dean's mom will always be his best friend. He'll never admit that aloud to anyone but they both know it's true.

"Ugh," Lizzy sniffles in complaint, as she backs up a step. "I knew I wasn't gonna make it through this."

"You don't make it through much when it comes to me," he jokes, pushing her lightly in the shoulder with a bright grin.

"You just… you looked just like him driving that damn car," she tells him, wiping her eyes. "I swear, it was like years ago, driving around with your dad…."

"Don't talk about dad in public, ok? You're just gonna cry too much."

"I know, ah," Lizzy sighs and breathes deep. She gathers herself. "I'm ok. I'm good now."

"Good. Now, why are we here?" Dean asks one more time.

"Well, the Impala's yours now so I need a car." She shrugs. "You know cars better than me so… what do I get?"

Dean looks around the used the lot, nodding lightly to himself as he does. He thinks it over. "You need something… normal. But still kinda badass."

"I _am_ a badass," Lizzy smiles.

"Oh, total badass, mom," Dean laughs and pulls an arm around his mom's shoulders. "Let's get a good deal on something sweet and I'll fix her up a bit for you."

"All you've ever done is a few oil changes. What makes you think you can restore a car?" Lizzy has to challenge.

"I taught myself to do oil changes… and I rotate your tires too," he reminds.

"And that's very impressive, sweetie, but fixing up a car is a whole other story."

"I can totally do it," Dean tells her with nothing short of total confidence. "Uncle Sam can help me find some solid how-to books at the library and I can get started. Grandpa Bobby can get us cheap parts even!" He lights up when he really thinks about it, his confidence growing.

"He _would_ like to hear from you more…." Lizzy trails off, thinking about it.

"Hell, this summer we can make a road trip out there!" Dean gets too excited. "I haven't seen Grandma Karen in a long time either. Grandpa and I can head out to the yard and pick parts! Mom, it'll be awesome!"

She laughs at how crazy excited he just got. "You really think you can pull this off?"

"Definitely!"

"When do you plan to get work done?" she challenges, wanting all aspects thought of and planned out before saying yes. "You have a job, homework, and practice."

"Wrestling's almost over and I only work twice a week." Dean's got her and he can tell when he just looks right at her face. She's seriously considering it. "My grades are really good. Let me do this, mom. I'll save you some serious money…."

"For college," she says looking up at him.

"Yeah…" Dean trails off, not sounding so excited.

"You're going!" Lizzy insists.

"We'll see," Dean tells her, looking for a compromise to her stringent rule. "I just need to find a direction first. If what I want to do requires a degree then I'll definitely go."

She sighs. "You're going. You're too smart to waste that brain."

Dean just laughs at her as they walk towards a row of used cars.

"Hey, uh, I want to talk to you tonight," Lizzy tells him, her nervousness well-hidden as she's been prepping herself for this for almost a year now. "There's some stuff you need to know, now that you're old enough."

"About?"

"Me. Your dad. What we used to do."

Dean bursts out a deep laugh. "What, you a secret agent in a past life?"

She smiles at that. "Not exactly."

"Dave and I were gonna head out, meet up with some people, but it sounded pretty low key and kinda lame anyways. I'll stay in."

"Really!?" Lizzy asks with shock.

"Yeah, why not?" Dean asks, looking at her confused. "I've stayed in before."

"True… but that was before."

"Before…?"

"You started hanging out with _Kayla_," Lizzy says, smirking at him as she knows they've been seeing a lot of each other lately.

"Jesus, mom," Dean rolls his eyes. "She's just a friend."

"A friend you think is cute," Lizzy points out.

"Yeah… she's cute. I guess…."

"Yeah, yeah. Play it off," Lizzy shakes her head. "But you know what? It's fine. I can keep pretending I'm the only girl in your life then."

"Aw, mom," Dean exaggerates. He kisses her cheek. "You'll always be my number one girl. You know that."

"Ok, stop sucking up," she pushes him away from her playfully. "I'm already letting you get your fixer upper."

"Yeah!?" Dean lights up brightly, so happy to be trusted like that.

"Yes, now help me pick something out before I change my mind."

"We _could_ try and find something here or… we could just call Grandpa and ask him what he has sitting around."

"What have I done?" Lizzy mutters to herself as she sees this getting out of hand fast.

* * *

"Great," Lizzy bitches and rolls her eyes when Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of their two story home. There's a black Challenger in their driveway. First their trip was unsuccessful and now she has to deal with this mess.

"Mom, be nice," Dean asks of her as he puts the car in park and turns off the engine. He looks right at her. "Uncle Sam really likes her."

"But I don't," Lizzy spits back, crossing her arms over her chest. She really doesn't.

"Doesn't matter. He does," Dean reminds her as he turns a little to face her. "He never likes any chick this much. Let him have this."

"I just don't trust her," Lizzy tells him.

"You ever gonna trust any girl Sam dates?" Dean challenges his mother, knowing the odd and close relationship they have.

"Yes!" Lizzy defends herself. "I liked Jess!"

"We all liked Jess… more than Sam did," Dean laughs. "She wasn't it for him."

"Well, neither is this newest one." She opens the car door with a squeal, intent on ending the conversation.

"She has a name," Dean reminds her.

"Yeah. Bitch," Lizzy sighs and slams the door behind herself.

"Hey!" Dean yells over the roof when he gets out. "Easy with the car! I just got her!"

"You're funny," Lizzy flatly tells him, walking for the front door with gritted teeth. She hates Sam's new girlfriend. A lot. Something about her irks Lizzy. She's uncomfortable around her. And this new girlfriend is seriously rude.

When Lizzy opens the door and waits for Dean to walk through before closing it behind him, she notices that the rug in the front foyer is turned up in the corner but she gets distracted before she can kick it back into place.

"Whoa! Take it easy you two!" Dean shouts within a laugh. When Lizzy looks over at the couple making out on the couch she sighs as they snap their eyes onto her and Dean, both looking like the cat who ate the canary.

"You're worse than my teenage son," she tells Sam as he gets up from the couch, his new girl following suit.

"Sorry about that," he laughs, embarrassed. "How'd it go?"

"Got my license," Dean says with pride, holding up his temporary paper license.

"That easy, huh?" Sam responds, knowing Dean was going to pass easily.

"Super easy," Lizzy smiles. "But we didn't exactly find a new car for me yet…."

"But I'm calling Bobby right now!" Dean says, pulling out his cell phone. "I'm gonna find mom something badass and fix it up for her."

"Oh really?" Sam laughs, wide eyes on Lizzy as he smirks.

"He talked me into it," she tells him, still surprised that he got her to agree so easily. "He's claiming he can save me money."

"I can!" Dean tells her loudly, eyes glancing at Sam's girlfriend as he speeds into the kitchen, line ringing already. "Hey, Ruby."

"Hey there, Dean-o," she casually responds.

They all hear Dean greet Bobby with excitement in the room down the hall and Sam smiles. "He's gonna get you something old."

"I know," she complains, having been ready for a fuel efficient, newer model car before now.

"You'll probably hate it."

"Shut up, I know," she gripes again, not ready for what she already signed up for. Looking at Ruby, she tries to lighten her attitude. "Hi, Ruby."

"Good to see you, Liz," Ruby tries her best, knowing she's not Sam's sister-in-law's favorite person. The woman doesn't hide her true feelings well.

"Lizzy," she corrects darkly. After Dean, she's very rarely allowed anyone to call her Liz. That was his thing.

"Sorry. Forgot," the woman apologizes.

"Don't worry about it," Lizzy tells her, tone still even yet not very friendly. "You two sticking around for dinner?"

"Nah," Sam says. "We were gonna grab a bite. Just wanted to wait and see the new ride but I see now that we didn't have to wait."

"Mom!" Dean shouts from the kitchen. "You want a '72 GTO!? She's red!"

"No! Think newer!" Lizzy yells back. "And more mom-like!"

"A 95' Caravan then?"

"Don't you even!" Lizzy shouts back, pissed that he'd suggest such a thing. "I'll kill you!"

She can hear him laugh at her before relaying the request to Bobby.

"You're totally getting a van," Sam smiles at her.

"Damn it, I know," Lizzy complains as her eyes glace at Ruby, looking her over super quickly. Black jeans, leather jacket, black t-shirt. Where is she going, a funeral? "Where you two off to? Anywhere good?"

"Actually…" Sam starts but Ruby takes over, something she's been known to do.

"We were hoping you'd let us bring Dean out for a burger or something," she says, her voice purposely gone to somewhere all too innocent. And fake. "Gotta celebrate the big day, right?"

"Uh… well…" Lizzy starts to make excuses but Sam cuts in.

"Come on, Lizzy," he smiles, arm going around Ruby's shoulders. "We'll have him back early."

"I just… remember what I told you? I wanted to talk to him tonight?"

Sam looks at her unknowing, not remembering.

"_The talk_." She makes a face, one that silently tells him he should know what she's trying to do tonight. She told him about this the other day. And they talked a lot about it as she prepared herself over the weeks.

"Shit, you haven't had the sex talk with him yet?" Ruby half-laughs at the thought. "He's sixteen!"

Death glare aimed at her as Sam laughs along, Lizzy informs her, "I told him about that years ago. I'm surprisingly a really good parent."

"Lizzy, calm down," Sam laughs. "It was just a joke."

"Didn't realize you were dating a comedian," Lizzy snaps back.

"I'm sorry, ok?" Ruby apologizes. "It was in bad taste. Alright?"

Her lack of sincerity further irks Lizzy. "Whatever. I need him in tonight."

"What!? Aw, Lizzy, come on," Sam complains. "We'll get him fed, he'll be happy… the conversation will be easier then. Back by eight."

Lizzy clenches her teeth hard. Sam's been pretty absent lately, spending a lot of time with Ruby since they met. It was instant. Dean mentioned something about Sam's lack of time at the house and she knows he's missing hanging out with his uncle. Shit.

"All set," Dean smirks as he enters the room, waving his phone. "Bobby's got a winner and he's gonna drive it out next week… with all needed parts."

"How much is this costing me?" Lizzy gripes right away.

"Jack," Dean smirks, nudging her with his shoulder. "We get the family discount."

"We have to pay him something…."

"Like he'll let you," Dean comments, getting a face from his mother. "I told him we'd pay for parts and the car itself. He's covering transportation on the way down. He said it's his and Grandma Karen's excuse to come visit."

Lizzy sighs. "I'll have to get some cash out of the bank and stuff it in his bag before he leaves. Alright, how much _would_ I owe him?"

"Like, eight grand with the parts included… my best guess."

Lizzy then closes her eyes. "What the hell did you get me?"

Dean smiles wide. "2006 Dodge Charger SRT. She's freakin' beautiful, I saw her last time we went out. She just got dropped at Bobby's so she hasn't even been sitting in the yard long. She's fuel efficient and she's cool as hell."

"Color?"

Dean looks so disappointed. "I find you a juiced up Charger and you say _what color_?"

"Just don't say red," Lizzy hopes. "I don't want to look like a fifty year old midlife crisis on wheels."

"It's blue. Relax," he smiles.

"Alright, fine," Lizzy agrees. "What day are they coming?"

"They're gonna call you tomorrow."

"Good, ok," Lizzy nods.

"Well, how about we celebrate?" Sam cuts in, looking at Dean as he claps his hands together. "Bacon cheeseburgers on us for getting your license, huh?" He grins wide, knowing he's already won."

"Hell yeah!" Dean cheers with the idea. He immediately gets smacked in the arm.

"Watch your mouth!" Lizzy scolds him right away.

"Can I go?" Dean asks her, thought of greasy food and hanging out with his uncle suddenly clouding everything else.

"Well, remember I wanted to sit down with you…."

"We can do it when we get home." Dean shrugs, not getting the gravity of what she's trying to do.

"Dean, I just…." Lizzy tries again but once more she gets cut off.

"He'll be back by eight," Ruby promises as she walks closer to Dean. She links his arm in hers and smiles. "Scouts honor." She smiles at Lizzy and the other woman tries her best not to slug her.

"Mom, it'll be fine," Dean promises. "I never get to see Uncle Sam these days. Dinner and I'm back. We can talk as long as you want after that. You and me."

The way he says it hits her hard. _You and me_.

"Fine," Lizzy's arms drop heavily to her sides. "I'll see you guys around eight."

"Thanks, mom," Dean grins wide, heading out the door while pulling his keys out of his pocket. "I'm driving!"

"Shotgun!" Ruby calls out and giggles as they walk.

Lizzy wants to choke her out.

"Lizzy, thank you," Sam says quietly as he passes her, kissing her cheek. "I appreciate this."

"You better, you asshole," Lizzy grumbles as they leave the house, door shutting behind them.

Once the house is silent she stands there alone. Her most frightening night she's ever had since her husband died is now postponed for hours. Fuck Sam. Double fuck Ruby.

And then she sees it. The rug that was pulled up on the corner. Walking over, Lizzy's about to kick it back into place when something catches her eye. She can see the tiny orange paint chips scattered about. Lifting the rug a little more, Lizzy finds that the outer circle of the devil's trap she painted there the day they moved in has been broken, chipped away.

Old paint, she thinks to herself. She needs to remember to fix it tomorrow.

* * *

"Ugh, so good," Dean says with his mouth full of the last bite of burger left. He leans back in his bar top chair and rubs his very full stomach with a groan. "So full."

"Well you ate like it was going out of style, Dean-o," Ruby laughs, sipping he beer. "You were two seconds away from unhinging your jaw."

"Love this place," Dean simply comments as he keeps rubbing his gut. "Best burgers in town."

"Yeah, with a side of mouse shit," Sam gripes, looking around the dive joint Dean wanted to go to. He stands up. "Be right back." Sam points to Ruby. "Get me another beer?"

"Sure," she grins wide, every tooth showing in her captivating smile.

"Thanks, babe," Sam smirks, leaning down to kiss her before walking off.

"_Babe_?" Dean arches an eyebrow at Sam's back as he walks. "What the hell did you do to my uncle?"

"Oh, honey… that's one highly inappropriate conversation to have with a minor," Ruby slickly responds while getting up. She walks to the bar a few feet away.

"Ew," Dean whines. "Don't need to hear that."

"What, you don't like sex, Dean?" Ruby asks with challenge as she leans onto the bar. Before Dean can answer they're interrupted by the bartender. She gets three bottles of beer and sits back down, placing a beer in front of Dean.

"What are you doing?" Dean asks very cautiously, the beverage sitting in front of him. He hasn't touched it. This is weird.

"Dean, come on," Ruby rolls her eyes. "You drink. I know you do. You had a good day. Celebrate."

"I plan to celebrate by driving home. Sober." Dean eyes her over, unsure of what's happening here.

"Oh my God, it's one beer!" Ruby laughs. "No one's even watching. Dive bars are so easy. And if you're that nervous… Sam can drive home." She shrug it off and sips her own beer.

Dean just sighs and stares at the beer.

"You're a high school kid. You've totally drank before." Ruby pushes the bottle closer to him with an index finger. "Our secret."

He can feel his resolve weakening with the opportunity. "You tell my mother and we're officially no longer friends."

"Deal," Ruby laughs and watches with pure delight as he takes a gulp. "That'a boy."

"What are you doing!?" Sam asks when he gets close enough to see Dean sitting there in the bar top table tilting a beer up.

Dean coughs a little on the sip with the question. "Shit. Uncle Sam, listen…."

"I got him a beer on us," Ruby cuts in and admits what she did with ease. She's not even concerned when Sam stares at her dumbfounded.

"He's sixteen!" Sam scolds her, keeping his voice down enough to avoid trouble. He snatches the beer out of Dean's hand. "You're not drinking."

"How old were you when you had your first beer, Sam?" Ruby wonders after Sam takes a seat, keeping Dean's beverage.

"What does that matter? He's not me. He's my nephew."

"Dude, this is what uncles do!" Ruby counters with a smile. "Uncles are cool. They let you get away with things. They hang with you for your first underage beer in a bar."

"Your mother would kill me," Sam points out to the kid.

"She didn't kill you for all the times you let me stay up and watch zombie flicks when I was too young," Dean reminds him.

"Not the same."

"How is it not?" Dean laughs. "Violence at eight is totally equal to beer at sixteen."

Sam stares blankly. "That's the most arbitrary analogy I've ever heard."

"Uncle Sam, you're not my dad. Chill out. It's just one beer."

"Yeah, _Uncle Sam_," Ruby grins as she leans into him with a pleading look. "He'll always remember this."

Sam struggles internally. He always loved being the cool uncle. He and Dean would do stupid crap all the time. They ruined dinner with pig outs after school. They stayed up late, watched terrible stuff, laughed all night when they'd do 'camp outs' in pillow forts in the living room. He loved being the guy that could bring the fun.

But he's also more than that. He's Dean's only male example of how to live and how to act in life. He was a disciplinarian when he'd have to be. He made sure homework was done right and that Dean was always in line… just like his brother would have.

So what is he right now? Fun uncle? Or substitute father?

"Alright, fine," Sam huffs a sigh of worry. "You tell your mother about this and I will murder you in your sleep."

Dean grins wide. "Knew you were cool, Uncle Sam."

"Yeah…" he worries aloud. "So cool…."

* * *

She called three times. Left several text messages. And now she just sits and waits with her stomach in knots.

It's after midnight. She wants to throw up. Sam is never irresponsible like this and would never have Dean out this late after promising him back by eight. Never. This isn't good.

With a shotgun of salt rounds by her side and a sports bottle of holy water, Lizzy stews with her fear. That devil's trap was broken. Before she had assumed it just chipped away by accident, the paint getting brittle with age. But now she's rethinking everything.

Now, she's just confused.

Lizzy looks at the clock for the millionth time. Her leg bounces and she chews her thumb nail. What the hell is happening? First the broken protection and now this?

The door to the house flies open and hits the wall behind it with force. Lizzy stands quickly and aims her sawed off at the open doorway.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Sam shouts, hands up in front of him to show surrender. "It's just me! Put it down, quick!"

Lizzy lowers the gun when she realizes Dean is coming behind him. She shoves it under the couch as her blood boils when he seems just fine.

"Where the hell where you!?" she booms out right away, standing up straight just in time to see Dean sway into the house with a dopey grin on his face, Ruby helping him walk. "Answers!"

"We got dinner, mom," Dean says in a relaxed voice, smiling sloppily as he sways a little on his feet and Ruby lets him go, laughing. "Relax, ok? Don't freak out. You always freak out…."

"_Are you drunk_!?" Lizzy fires out as she marches to Dean with total fury. She grabs his face in her hands and looks him in the eye. "What the hell, Dean!?"

"Mom, calm down," he giggles. "It's no big deal…."

"Tell me this is a fucking joke!" Lizzy drops his face and looks up at Sam, his eye lids heavy as he's clearly a bit drunk himself.

"We had a couple beers…" Sam tried to explain in a voice that shows it isn't a big problem but he knows the mistake this was the second he watches the audacity and ire fill Lizzy's expression.

"YOU WHAT!?" she shouts in his face.

"Alright, fun night… goodnight guys," Ruby calls into the house from the doorway she's never walked through, ready to avoid all of this.

"No! " Lizzy stops her, watching the dark haired, short woman she doesn't trust turn around slowly. When they lock eyes Lizzy's fuming. "Get in here."

She smirks. "I'm sorry, but you're not my mother. Don't speak to me like that," Ruby calmly tells her.

"I'll speak to you however I want when you drop _my_ drunk teenage son off at _my_ house!" Lizzy yells at her.

"Not my problem," Ruby says simply. She looks at Sam. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

Sam dopily nods a yes at her. "After you get off work."

"Deal. Bye, babe." She smiles sweetly and blows a kiss at her before looking at Dean. "Good night, kiddo. Congrats again, huh?"

"Thanks, Ruby!" Dean nearly shouts with happiness at her, waving his arm lazily goodbye.

When the front door closes, Lizzy takes one deep breath, finds her calm place so that she can continue this whole mess rationally, and then explodes when she can't remain calm. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" She shouts it with her whole body.

"Whoa!" Dean half laughs and half surprises out with her outburst. "Easy…."

"You shut your mouth for a minute!" Lizzy fires out, pointing at him with her index finger. Dean wisely closes his mouth and keeps it quiet for the time being, golf ball eyes popping out of his head. She then looks to Sam and takes her tone down so she can get actual answers. "Where were you guys?"

"Gradey's," Sam answers easily, still a little drunk himself.

"I thought you were just getting dinner," Lizzy says evenly, keeping herself in check.

"We did."

"Double bacon cheeseburger…." Dean starts to answer with Sam.

"I'll talk to you after! Zip it!" she once more silences him. He'd forgotten through his haziness. He shuts up again. "Sam, why the hell is my sixteen year old son drunk right now?"

"I… I just…" he starts to explain the whole rite of passage and uncles do the cool stuff speech but Ruby was way better at it. He can't exactly remember how this was supposed to go now that he's been asked. Stupid alcohol. "I was… hitting a milestone with him."

"What milestone?"

"Every kid has their first beer with their uncle…."

"Yeah, first _beer_… not _beers_!" Lizzy gets angry again.

"We might have gotten a little carried away," Sam admits.

"Might have!? Jesus Christ, Sam! Take some responsibility for this!" Lizzy screams at him as she glances at Dean, knowing he'd be itching to speak up on Sam's behalf by now. He snaps his mouth shut when she looks at him. Lizzy sighs and closes her eyes. "I was scared all fucking night. I called you both so many times. I left so many messages…."

Sam and Dean both pull their phones out and check at the same time. They had no idea. They share guilty looks with each other.

"Lizzy, I'm sorry," Sam tells her, really feeling bad now. "I know I said I'd have him back earlier…."

"I thought… God, I don't know what I thought!" Lizzy gets choked up, neither of these two men ever having done this to her before. They know how paranoid she is. "I thought you got into an accident. Or ran into… something. Shit. If you two got hurt, or worse!? What would I have done!?"

They wisely don't answer this.

Lizzy presses a hand over her eyes as she starts to cry with anger, relief, and still running fright. "I already lost enough." She plops down onto the couch, hands covering her face, and lets it all out. "Fuck! You both scared me so much! And you were out _drinking_!?"

Dean swallows hard. He fucked up. And his mother certainly doesn't deserve this, especially not after the day they've had. His guilt and his disappointment in himself hits like a freight train.

"Mom… I'm so sorry," Dean says quietly, afraid to even speak despite the need to apologize strong.

"Go to bed, Dean," Lizzy tells her boy, not even looking at him.

"Mom, I'm really sorry… I just…."

"_Go to bed, Dean_," she repeats, looking right at him, her face wet and crushing his heart.

He nods and walks for the second floor. When he gets to the bottom steps he looks back at her. "I never meant to upset you. I love you, mom." He then climbs the stairs and disappears for the night.

Lizzy sighs and tries to get ahold of her emotions. All the while, Sam is still standing there.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Lizzy finally asks as she stands back up and wipes her face clear of tears. She looks right at Sam. "This isn't like you at all."

"I know…" Sam bashfully answers.

"What happened?" Lizzy asks him, truly wanting to understand.

Sam shakes his head. "I don't know. I meant to get him home like I said. But Ruby…."

"I knew it," Lizzy says quickly, grumbling the words with hatred.

"Stop, Lizzy. I know you don't like her…."

"You're damn right I don't like her," Lizzy fires out. "You haven't been yourself since you met her."

"What does that mean?" Sam gets offended.

"I mean, you've been unreliable starting from the second she walked into your life," Lizzy finally lets it all out. "She's controlling. She expects the world from you and she doesn't do jack for you in return."

"She makes me happy," Sam defends the woman.

"She's used you so many times," Lizzy keeps going anyways. "She likes what you can do for her and how you look standing next to her. She's a fucking con artist…."

"I know you're pissed, but too far, Lizzy." Sam stands his ground. "You know how much I like her…."

"But why _her_!?" Lizzy has to wonder. "After all the past girls you were with, why is _this_ the one that's sticking around!? What about Jess?"

"Just because you liked Jess doesn't mean she was right for me," Sam points out. "Ruby… makes me feel good about myself."

"Because she sucks up to you? That's what you want?" Lizzy stays mad that Sam doesn't see it. "Some chick to hang on you, make you feel like a man?"

"Well I certainly don't feel like one in this house," Sam returns with, the spite in his tone clear.

Lizzy takes a half step back with the sudden admission from Sam. "What does that mean?"

"It means… in this house… you wear the pants," Sam tells her, this being something he and Ruby have spoken about before. "And I just live in your shadow."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she disbelieves what she's hearing. This is crazy.

"I mean, I feel like a guest in my house. You control the schedules…."

"Because I have a fucking kid!"

"And you tell me what the to-do list is all the time, sending me on errands…."

"Feel free to do that yourself anytime, Sam!" Lizzy starts to lose it.

"And… I think you're jealous."

Lizzy stops there with his biting words. She blinks once and takes a deep breath. "Jealous of what?"

"Of what I have," Sam tells her. "We talked about it…."

"We? You mean you and that bitch?" Lizzy spits at him.

"Watch it…" Sam points at her.

"No! She's putting thoughts in your head, Sam! You never had a problem with our arrangement until you met her. Hell, I tried to end this years ago and _you_ said no!"

"And now I changed my mind," Sam tells her. "Ruby and I… we're gonna move in together."

"What!?" Lizzy panics. "You've only known her three months!"

"It's all I need," Sam explains flippantly. "The house is in both of our names but I'll sign it over to you. And I'll be gone by next month."

She can't breathe. What the hell is happening here? How did this good day turn to such shit so quickly?

"I… I don't know what to say," she explains. "I think you're making a huge mistake, Sam."

"When are you gonna look past your kneejerk judgment of her and see that she's great?"

"She's not. So I can't."

"And that's why we need to separate. Now," Sam tells her for sure. "You're going to be toxic for us."

"Because I don't want you with the wrong girl?" Lizzy says simply, her tone actually lowering when she gets sad and nervous for this departure. "Sam, I want you to be happy."

"She makes me happy."

"I'm sure that's what most guys say about their girlfriends that are young enough to be their daughters…."

"Low blow!" Sam calls her out. Sure, he's in his forties. And yes, Ruby is twenty-five. But who cares, right?

"Sam, are you sure she's actually good for you?" Lizzy asks, needing him to see it. She's bad news. "Because I have a feeling you don't know her as well as you should."

"This is about us, isn't it?" Sam finally spills what's been on the tip of his tongue this whole time.

"_Us_? How do you mean?"

"I mean, you and me," Sam says, so sure of himself after talking this over with Ruby so much. "She was right. You have feelings for me."

"What!?" Lizzy asks loudly, eyes wider than wide. "You're fucking joking, right?"

"Not at all."

"You're like my brother, dude."

"Women don't fuck their brothers, Lizzy."

She closes her eyes and bites her lips together at first when he brings sex up. "It was only, like, four times."

"So?"

"In sixteen years!" she adds on.

"And you initiated it every single time," Sam tells her stubbornly.

"I was horny and you're good in bed," Lizzy shrugs. "So sue me."

"But I think this has gotten… too close," Sam tells her. "It's not healthy anymore. I need to live my life."

She shakes her head. Lizzy has said this to him so many times before. He needs to live his own life, he needs to find a girl. And now that he's listened he's chosen he wrong girl, one that twists his mind up and turns everything around on her. Now he's acting as if she's always been keeping him here and he's the one who always wanted out.

"I'm sorry that sex has made you think I'm too clingy," Lizzy speaks up after a moment. "I never planned for that. And no, I'm not trying to keep you here."

"Good."

"I'm just trying to stop you from making a mistake. I know you well, Sam. You're my family. I just want you to reconsider."

Sam just shakes his head, disappointed in her. "Look, I'm sorry for tonight. It was meant to be one beer. It… I fucked up. It went too far."

Lizzy nods.

"I'm gonna go sleep this off," he says and heads for the stairs. As he makes his way he says back to her, "And it was five times."

Once he's gone, Lizzy plops onto the couch again and holds her head in her hands, hunched over.

* * *

He heard the whole fight. Every word. They must have forgotten about the fact that the walls in their house are thin enough.

She's so pissed off. And she should be. And Uncle Sam really should have told her about his plans to move out at a better time. That was a mess.

And why did he turn everything around on her. His mom never pressured him to stay, not once. Mom always wanted Uncle Sam to be happy and have his own life, Dean could see that even as a young kid.

And really!? They've… had sex? Ew. No. Dean can't think about that. So fucking gross.

So now Dean lays in bed in the dark and he's not happy about anything that went down. And he's so guilty it hurts. Sure, it was fun getting drunk at the bar. He'd never done that before. And he hasn't seen a whole lot of Uncle Sam lately and that was pretty fun too. And Ruby is a blast. He knows his mother doesn't like her very much but she's cute as hell and a good time to hang out with. The night was a good one.

But he allowed himself to forget about his mother. She handed over his dad's car to him today. She even agreed to let him fix her up a new car just because it would make him happy. She's given everything to him, his life has been so good… and she just wanted to talk to him tonight. One on one. He told her he'd be there.

Instead he got drunk.

Dean's embarrassed of himself right now. He fucked up so hard and there's no way to fix it right now. He will, though. He'll make it up to her. It's the very least he could do for the mother that's also been his father and everything else in between.

As he thinks about everything, his phone buzzes. He got a text message.

_Ruby: Is it WWIII over there?_

Dean laughs a little at that and responds.

_Dean: Nah. Mom's super pissed and she totally should be. We were wrong. _

He sends it and closes his eyes. Jesus. What a mess. His phone buzzes again.

_Ruby: You were just having fun. You can talk about the birds and the bees tomorrow, right?_

Dean laughs to himself quietly at that.

_Dean: We had the sex talk years ago. I think it was something more important than that. I'm sure I'm grounded now so we'll have plenty of time to talk._

He knows it's coming. Grounded. No date night Friday's for a while and no Saturday nights drinking in basements and in the woods with friends. Oh well. He'll hang with his mother and watch crappy movies or something. As long as the guys at school don't find out.

_Ruby: Well, she needs to cut the cord some time, right? Maybe now's the time. She's too controlling._

Dean makes a funny face. Controlling? His mom? Sure, she's been known to be cautious and nervous over ridiculous things but she's never been controlling of him. He makes his own decisions and she steps in when she needs to. Right? Well, maybe she can be a little bit strict….

_Ruby: Just let me know if you need me to bust you out for a night sometime. Grounding is bullshit. ;)_

Well, at least Dean gets why his mom doesn't like her.

_Dean: We'll see. You got me into enough trouble so far, you bitch. Haha._

Dean then turns off his phone as the alcohol is making him sleepy. He's gonna pay for this tomorrow, he can feel it already. But then again, so will Uncle Sam. They can be miserable together.


	56. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 19)

"Mom?" Dean's voice meekly calls out to her as she looks up from her morning coffee while she's lounging in her favorite chair on the back deck. That's become her space. She's planted flowers in ceramic pots, grown some tomato plants, bought comfortable outdoor furniture, and made it her place. Even in the fall when the morning are cold she bundles up in her sweatpants and one of Sam's oversized sweatshirts and spends time out there when she can.

"Hey, sweetie," she says in a quiet, sad voice. "You feeling like shit?"

"Oh, most definitely," Dean huffs awkwardly, never having been in this much trouble with his mother before now. He steps outside, still in his sweat pants himself, and pulls his coat closed. "Can we talk?"

"You want to?" Lizzy eyes him with cautious surprise.

"I need to," Dean tells her, really wanting to clear as much air as he can.

"Well then, take a seat." Lizzy points to the other wooden lounge chair and Dean sits down. "Did you drink any water?"

"Not yet."

"You should have," she lets him know. "You're probably dehydrated."

"I will," Dean promises and clears his throat. "So, first I just want to say I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Lizzy looks at him hard.

"But not because I'm in trouble," he tries to clarify. "I'm sorry because… I let you down. I don't usually do that because you've never once let me down. Not once my whole life. I know how good a parent you are and how lucky I am to have you so… I just… I'm sorry I wasn't a good son in return. That's not fair of me."

Lizzy smiles sadly, swallows thickly, and sighs. "Damn it."

"What?"

"You just sounded like your dad… the way you apologized," Lizzy tells him with nostalgia in her voice. "He was always so heartfelt and, just, calculating when he wanted to say something he really meant. You're so much like him in ways that you shouldn't be since… you never met him."

Dean just sadly grins back for a split second. "I would do anything to meet him. Just once."

Lizzy's chin quivers a little. "I'm sure he feels the same way up there."

Dean nods, taking it for what it's worth. "I'm just sorry, mom. I went along with the idea to have my first beer and I should have known better."

"No, you shouldn't have," she tells her boy. "Well, you _should_ have but really, Sam was the adult in the situation."

"Ruby was there too."

"I stand by my statement," Lizzy arches an eyebrow at him as knows what she's saying.

Dean shakes his head. "I know I'm on thin ice here and I should probably bite my tongue, but you gotta be nicer to her," he explains. "Uncle Sam loves her. I think this is it for him."

"God help us," Lizzy rolls her eyes, still thinking the woman is a mess.

"See! That right there is what I'm talking about," Dean gets upset. "You keep that crap up and Sam's gonna ditch us."

"He already is," she lets him know, her heart aching with the idea.

"What does that mean?" Dean gets confused.

"He's moving out," Lizzy lets him know. "Sam's getting his own place… with Ruby."

Dean leans back in his lounger and sits with the information after having hoped when he woke up he'd misheard their argument the night before. He didn't. Sam's moving out. "Fucking weird."

"I know," Lizzy agrees. "And watch the language."

"Sorry."

Lizzy sighs. "But hey, it'll be just you and me for a while but we'll be fine. You can drive now. We don't necessarily need him anymore to function day to day."

"But… it's still weird."

"Yeah, I know."

It gets silent as they both deal with the idea that Sam won't be living in the same place he has for so many years. Neither are ready for it.

"Well, since we're talking about crappy stuff, you gonna let me have it?" Dean asks his mother. "I'm prepared for the reaming."

"The reaming?" Lizzy asks. "That's lovely."

"Well, you're ready to get pissed at me now, right?" Dean assumes. "Ground my ass for a while?"

"Language!" Lizzy gets upset for that one right after the other. "I'll bring the swear jar back!"

"You'll owe more than I could ever rack up," Dean remind her. "That's why you got rid of it in the first place."

"Shit, you're right," she says and smirks just slightly. She watches Dean relax a little, his shoulders dropping. "And you are definitely grounded. Two months."

"Two mon…!"

"You want three, is that it?" she asks when he starts to complain. "You want more time to hang out with just me here in our lovely, super exciting home?"

"No, no. I'm not complaining at all," Dean smiles fake and Lizzy returns it.

"Good thing."

"But… aren't you still mad?"

"Hon, I'm far too tired to be mad." She yawns. "I'm just… sad. I had a lot to talk to you about."

"Well, I'm grounded so… let's do this," Dean says, turning a little to face her better. "What is it you wanna tell me? It's just us girls now."

Despite her sadness, her upset with him and his actions, and the fear over this conversation, Lizzy smiles wide and laughs. "You're an idiot."

"Don't call me an idjit," Dean uses his best Bobby impression.

"God, you're a regular riot," Lizzy laughs and stands up. "Let's go inside."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Ok," Lizzy sighs, sitting on the couch next to her son and placing two old leather journals on the coffee table. The spitting image of her husband looks at her with a small grin, clearly fighting his hang over to give her his full attention as he can tell how important this is to her. But she's so nervous. "You're gonna have to bear with me, kiddo. I'm a little… freaked out here. I guess."

Dean laughs small. "Mom, it's me. Relax. It can't be that bad, right?"

She pauses. "I'll ask you how bad it is once we get through this."

Dean listens up, sits taller and remains attentive. This is big, whatever it is.

"Well, uh… maybe I'll start at the beginning," Lizzy says with a deep breath. "Um… so, before you were born, I… had a different occupation. I wasn't always a teacher."

"You got your degree when I was a kid, I know," Dean reminds her.

"And I told you that before I was a teacher I was in pest control."

"Right…."

"I wasn't," she spits out quickly. "Not really."

"Ok, then… what did you do?"

"I was a hunter."

Dean busts out a laugh.

"I'm serious. I was a hunter, but not…."

"You!? Killing Bambi!?" Dean disbelieves. "Yeah, right!"

"I didn't kill Bambi, smartass," Lizzy cuts him off right there. "And I'm not joking. I hunted… things."

He stops laughing with how serious she is. Her face is pale with worry. There's no joking here. This is serious. She's dead serious.

"Uh… what kind of things?" Dean wonders, looking intently at her.

She takes another deep breath and clears her throat. "Do you remember what I told you about my family? What happened to them?"

Dean takes a second with the sudden subject change. "Uh, yeah. They were attacked by an intruder in the middle of the night when you were a kid. You're the only one that survived."

"That's right… except that the intruder wasn't human." Lizzy says it quickly. "It was a demon."

Dean narrows his eyes at her. "What… what are you talking about?"

"There are things out there in the world, things that most people have the luxury of thinking aren't real. I haven't had that luxury since 2001."

Her son doesn't even attempt to speak back. He's so lost.

"I found out that night that demons are real," she explains. "They're very real. And they are vicious, calculating, evil beings that create havoc wherever they are. Unfortunately, my family was the target of the havoc that one random night."

"But… why?" Dean asks, trying to get a handle on things.

"They don't always have a reason," Lizzy explains plainly. "Sometimes evil is evil for the sake of being evil. And evil is _real_. Kiddo, it's as real as you and me."

Dean shakes his head. "No way. You're screwing with me."

"No, honey. I would never do that," Lizzy says to him. "The night I escaped my house when the demon attacked is the night I met Grandpa Bobby. He and Rufus found me bleeding and hurt running down my street screaming for help. They were in my town looking into the demon that came after us but they got there too late. I was all that was left."

"I thought you met Grandpa Bobby through the pest control job… shit." It dawns on him halfway through his statement. Bobby's a hunter too. So if Bobby's best friend Rufus. It all begins to click into place. "The gun stock in the back shed behind the salvage yard. The weird ass books all over his house. That shit painted on the study ceiling at his place…."

Lizzy stands up from the couch and walks to the front door. Dean watches as she lifts the corner of the accent rug there and shows him the orange painted devil's trap that she fixed that morning. It's the same symbol painted on Bobby's study ceiling.

"What the fuck, mom!?" Dean starts to panic when he sees something he's never once seen in his own house.

"There's two under the carpet in your room also. One inside the doorway and one under the window," she explains. "Same with my room and Uncle Sam's."

"Mom… you… but you're not making any sense."

His eyes couldn't be wider with more fear if he tried. Her heart shatters for him in the moment. She's ruining the rest of his life with this in a way. He'll never be normal again. It's killing her.

Lizzy sits back down next to him and grabs his hand tightly between hers. "I never wanted you to know. Ever. I wanted you to live your entire life free from this shit that I've been cursed with. But I'm going to tell you everything, from the moment I first saw a demon to the day I met your dad and past that… because you deserve to know what you're a part of."

"You're freaking me the fuck out," Dean shakily tells her.

"I know," she nods. "But it's gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. Hang on tight. And ask a lot of questions… and just remember that I love you _so much_…."

* * *

"Jesus," Dean hushes out in sheer shock as he leafs through her journal that she's kept for decades now. Entry after entry of hunts, monsters, banishing spells and exorcisms, stories of other hunters and their specialties along with places and what she killed that week in that town. It's all there.

"I know," Lizzy says in a meek voice, curled up on the opposite corner of the couch as she watches him closely. His eyes scan every page, sometimes reads through an entry, and she can feel the bubbling in her stomach as she destroys his world view. "Are you ok?"

"Ask me again in a few minutes," Dean just says, unsure of how to answer that right now. When he gets to one specific page towards the back he pauses. "You were _here_ seventeen years ago?" he wonders, lifting the entry and pointing to the page with Palo Alto and a date on the top header.

"I met your father here," she tells him. "He was living here at the time I came through on a case."

"So… you met dad on a case?" Dean wonders, putting the journal down to focus on her.

"Kind of," she smiles sadly. She's going to be as honest as possible. "I met your father at a bar on a night off."

"Oh, classy stuff there, mom," Dean smirks and she pushes him with her sock clad foot.

"Watch it. You should be thankful I met him at a bar or else you wouldn't be here."

"Good point. So, what happened?"

Lizzy smiles, actually smiles, as it plays out in her head just like it just happened. "I was hustling some dumbasses out of their money at the pool table…."

"Wait… hustle pool?" Dean eyes her suspiciously.

"Hunting doesn't come with a paycheck, kiddo. Had to do what I had to do to survive."

"Who _are_ you?" Dean awes with continual surprise. He's jittery of course but he's dealing with it all one fact at a time.

"Wait, I tell you ghouls and ghost are real and what you balk at is my winning money off drunk dudes by playing pool?"

"You just never struck me as the hustler type is all. You're just too… mothery for that."

"Every mother had a life before having kids, alright?" she reminds him.

"Guess so," Dean leans back and faces her, his legs up on the couch and now running parallel to hers going to opposite way. "Ok, so… then what?"

"I went to the bar to get a new drink and this… smoking hot guy walks up to the bar next to me. We talked, he tried to hit on me, and I made him drink a pink cosmo for being too cocky."

"You what!?" Dean laughs hard at the very idea.

"Hey, I don't care how hot you are. Lame lines must be punished."

"Ok, ok, wait," Dean laughs again, thinking about the tough looking guy in the few pictures he has of his father. "So… dad drank a girly ass cosmo just to get into your pants?"

Lizzy smirks. "He was a bit of a horn-dog back then."

Dean busts out one more laugh and it makes Lizzy realize this is the first time she's mentioned Dean and truly enjoyed it. She loved him so much that his death still felt like a stab in the chest every time he was spoken of. But talking about the good stuff to her son? This feels pretty damn good.

"So?" Dean finally asks.

"So… what?"

"Did drinking the cosmo work?"

"Do you really want to know such things about your mother?" Lizzy wonders, her face slightly disgusted.

"I can handle it," Dean assures her, smiling still and apparently not weirded out.

"When did you get so cool?"

"Always was. You just didn't pay attention enough. Answer the question."

She hesitates. This isn't anything she planned to tell him. "I… um… don't judge your mother, ok?"

"HA! You had a one nighter with dad the night you met him!" Dean jumps up and points at her, mouth hanging open. "That's awesome!"

"Is it?" she wonders, totally confused as to how he can delight in his mother having sex and doing it quite casually.

"Holy crap!" Dean stops his excitement. "Did you guy make me the first night!? Is that why you stopped hunting!?"

"No!" Lizzy scolds him for the thought. "Jesus! We were safe, ok? What do you take me for!?"

"Alright, ok," Dean nods, and sits back down. "It just felt like that was where the story was going for a second."

"Why are you excited for that to happen? I'm your mother! I shouldn't have even told you about that." Lizzy grins, not sure what to think of her boy right now.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "You just… you're never hooking up with dudes or anything. You never even go out on dates. It's just… I like hearing that you weren't always like that."

"Like what exactly?" she takes offence.

"Like… you. You're lonely."

"I'm fine," she brushes it off.

"You're not," Dean gets serious. "You forget that I'm not a little kid anymore. I can handle myself. You need to be happy too."

"You make me happy," she grins goofily.

"Not what I mean and you know it," Dean tells her. "Dad's been gone for so long. Don't you want to, I don't know, remember what it's like to be with someone?"

"Well aren't you the little therapist?" Lizzy complains a bit. "I worry about you. It's my job. You don't worry about me. That's the law of parenthood."

"Screw the laws of parenthood. It's been you and me all this time. I think you've earned yourself some fun. I'll even help you make a Match dot com profile."

"Stop it!" Lizzy laughs and throws a pillow at him.

"Hot mom looking for hot dude for a good time," Dean says the headline of her profile, his hand blocking it out in the air.

"Ok, stop! Seriously!" Lizzy asks of him and he listens, sitting back and looking right at her with a grin. "Sweetie, I get it. You want me happy. But trust me, I'm fine. And I don't want to date around."

"Why not?"

"Because… why bother?" she asks. "I will never love anyone like I loved your dad. I just… I won't ever find that again. And that's not pessimism. It's just the truth. That's how in love we were."

The seriousness hits and Dean quiets down. "Fair enough. No Match dot com profile."

"Thank you," Lizzy says with full honesty, not at all wanting to do the whole online dating thing.

"Ok, so… you meet dad, you… get to know each other?" Dean says with a cocked eyebrow, knowing he's being fresh. "Then what."

"Then… I realize his little brother is the reason I was in town." Lizzy shakes her head with how surreal the whole thing sounds. "I was there with my partner to look into Sam Winchester."

"Uncle Sam? Why?" Dean face drops. "Shit. Is he, like, a monster? Is he a vampire or something?" he asks in a whisper, knowing Sam's still around in the house even if he's sleeping in.

"No! Your uncle is not a vampire!" Lizzy shakes her head. "What is wrong with you?"

"Then what's up with him?" Dean wonders.

"He… I'm going to try and make a very long story short. When Sam was a baby, six months old, a demon named Azazel was going around and infecting babies with his own demonic blood. Sam was one of them."

"How?"

"We don't know how he did it."

"But why? And why Uncle Sam?"

"We still don't know why Sam but Azazel was doing it so that he could find a new leader of a demonic army," Lizzy tells him as she sits up taller. "It's all very biblically tied, honestly. Years ago Lucifer was banished from Heaven…"

"The devil!?" Dean sits up taller too, mirroring her.

"Well… no. Lucifer was an angel. He was God's most brilliant angel, actually, but when God made man and asked the angels to worship them and love them more than they loved their Father… Lucifer said he couldn't do that. He loved his Father too much. So God said get the fuck out and banished him."

"That's not real," Dean tells her.

"I'll give you my copy of the Bible. It's all highlighted and everything so you can skip to the important, _real_ parts. And I left notes all in the margins to explain everything."

Dean's eyes remain wide on her.

"I know," she nods and plows through anyways. "When Lucifer got down here he was pissed. And vengeful. And he started taking it out on humans and other fallen angels, torturing them until their souls became so black and twisted that they turned into the first demons, Azazel being one of them. God saw this and created Hell. He put the demons there and caged up Lucifer on his own, separated in Hell, knowing the problems he would cause if he wasn't isolated."

"So… all this is real?" Dean asks.

"Yes."

"What about Noah?"

"Uh… probably but I'm not sure."

"What about Jesus?"

She sighs and gets irrevocably sad. "He was real."

Dean pushes out a hard breath, not sure what to think now.

"I'll get to him a little more in a bit," Lizzy assures and keeps going. "So, hundreds of years later, Azazel finally figures it out. He figures out how to spring his father from his cage. He needed to find the one leader that would get Lucifer out and start the Apocalypse. Sam was in the running for leader. He has demon blood in him and he was taken by Azazel when he was early twenties. I found him and… he's been safe since."

The guilt is there for lying about Sam dying and her time in Hell. She won't tell Dean about that. She can't. She can speak of a lot about her past but rehashing any of that is impossible… especially when she took him with her. Hell was too awful for words. And she's too ashamed to tell him.

"The point is, I met your father and Sam here in Palo Alto while Sam was in school and Dean was working at a local garage doing maintenance and refurbishing classics."

Dean's face drops. "Dad restored cars for a living?"

"Yeah, he did," Lizzy laughs as she has always seen the similarities between the two. "Probably should have told you that by now."

"Yeah!" Dean gets upset. "Is that why Bobby told me it felt like old times the first time he taught me how to do an oil change?"

"I'd say that's a big yes," Lizzy laughs. "Remember that half dead old Mustang Sam had when you were a kid?"

"The one I'll never forgive him for getting rid of you mean?"

"Yeah. Your dad fixed her up for Sam. Bobby helped him. The car was just a junker on his lot before that."

"WHAT!? And he just got rid of it for that stupid BMW he has now!?" Dean awes angrily.

"Yeah. But we still have the Impala. That thing was your dad's pride and joy. He's the one that named her Baby and honestly, I never knew which girl he loved more… me or that damn car." She laughs at the idea.

"Pretty sure I know which one," Dean laughs back.

"See! You _can_ be nice," Lizzy jests a little.

"I mean, I know _I_ love that car more than I love you. He probably felt the same," Dean shrugs nonchalantly.

"And I take it back," Lizzy rolls her eyes, Dean smiling. "Anyways, after a few days of explaining everything to Sam and Dean and getting to know them, Sam was as prepared as he could be to keep going to school while protecting himself. And your dad… was a stubborn ass. He jumped into my car and refused to get out. He wanted me to drive to Bobby's and get him to train him up so he could become a hunter and protect Sam. He was determined as hell and he wasn't taking no for an answer."

"Seriously?" Dean asks, Lizzy nodding in answer. "He's insane."

"I told him that."

"And you took him along anyways?"

Lizzy smiles. "He made a solid argument for it."

"Which was?"

"Well, after I slugged him in the face and proved he wasn't ready because he couldn't block a shot from a chick half his size…"

"You freakin' hit him?" Dean delights.

"Of course. I then made him give me three good reason why I should take him and let him become a part of a very dangerous, very life-ending career," Lizzy tells him, never forgetting his answer he gave her that day.

"What'd he say?"

"He said he wanted his mother's death to mean something and if his saving people is what came out of her dying when he was just four then she didn't die for nothing. He then said Sam. He wanted Sam safe and he needed to know how to do that. And… he said he didn't want me to leave without him. Because he really liked me."

"Aw, how sweet," Dean jokes.

"Hey, I didn't accept that last one as a real reason. Told him he needed to give me another reason. He then told me… he wanted his life to mean something. He felt like Sam was going places and he wasn't. He liked his job, don't get me wrong… but having a true purpose, being able to help people, he wanted that. He wanted to help. So, we drove to Bobby's."

"And Grandpa Bobby took him in?"

"He practically became his son," Lizzy shakes her head. "I still don't know how he did it. I left him there for a month to hunt and when I came back those two were thick as thieves."

"But… Grandpa Bobby hates everyone," Dean points out, slight smirk on his lips.

"Not your dad," Lizzy smiles warmly. Her mind recalls those too few times. Sneaking around the property to get away and be together. Sitting at the dinner table, Dean always winking suggestively at her when no one else was looking. The way he'd suck up to them all day (This pie is awesome, Missus Singer… I'd be happy to help you fix that, Bobby) and then at night he'd break all the rules and she'd have to bite her lips closed to stop from moaning too loud and giving them away.

Those were some of the very best days of her life.

"Mom?" Dean calls her back into the conversation when she looks away for too long. He's not impatient or upset for her wandering mind. It's just hard to see her so sad when she recalls his dad. She looks at him, fake smiling, and he sees the pain clearly. "Did dad die hunting?"

Her forehead wrinkles up and she looks down at her hand. She spins the cheapo wedding band on her ring finger, the basic piece of jewelry what she has of him. The metal chain around her neck that she's never taken off since he died suddenly feels heavier, Dean's wedding band on it pressing heavily into her chest. "I've had a lot of bad days in my life. A lot. But… that was by far…. That was the worst day I've ever had."

When she can see her husband's face, the fright in it as he sits in the corner of that motel room in the dark, vampire blood on his face, her eyes spill over hard and fast. There is nothing worse to recall for her, not even Hell. This was the worst thing she's been through.

"You don't have to tell me," Dean suddenly says, moving closer to her on the couch and grabbing her hand, just like she's done with him whenever he's been upset in his life. "It's not something…."

"It was a vampire," Lizzy tells him and blurts it out through her tears. "We came from Vegas two weeks before. Your dad got this crazy idea that we should go and I followed. The second we got there he got us drunk and he talked me into getting married," she sadly laughs through that idea. She then stops laughing. "We were… only married for two weeks."

Dean face falls. He had no idea.

"We wiped out a group of vamps that day. We'd been hunting together for four months and… we were good. Really good. But… that one time, we didn't know a vampire had been out of the nest for the day. We didn't kill him. He tracked us down and when I left to get food late night… it turned him. It turned your father."

"Jesus," Dean lets out without even knowing it, heart pounding with what she tells him.

"And that was it. He had to be… before he ever hurt anyone."

"Did you?" Dean has to know, thinking his mother is the one that killed his father.

"No," she vaguely says. "But I was there. It was…. It was awful."

Dean gives up and wraps his arms around his mom. She's full blow sobbing, something he's never once seen her do, and it's tearing him apart. He always knew his mom had a tough life before he was born. He knew his dad was dead and him mom's family was gone… but he couldn't have dreamed of this. This is beyond anything.

"Mom, I'm sorry," Dean says to her, barely keeping his own self together. "I didn't know…."

"Don't you dare apologize," Lizzy tells him, backing away with a wet face for sorrow. "Sweetheart, without it all… I wouldn't have you. All this shit, it lead to me having you. And without you… I'd have nothing."

Dean's sad smile as he looks away for a minute, undoubtedly trying to keep his emotions in check, makes Lizzy cry harder.

"I found out months later that you were on the way. And… you were my little blessing," she explains to him. "I still have your father with me every day in you. And you're so much like him. You… my god, you look just like him. Lucky boy." She laughs slightly through the tears as she pats his cheek lightly. "And you love cars and working with your hands. And you care so much about your family… blood or not. You took everything good about your dad and I don't even know how. I mean, hell… sometime you say something a certain way and I swear it was him instead of you." She grins proudly at him. "You are the greatest thing I've ever done. And you saved me from a very dark place. You will never know how much I love you."

Dean's eye fill up as he watches his mother confess all this to him. He knew she was different than other moms, somehow cooler despite not really being all that cool. And he knew she cared and loved him fiercely… but the magnitude to which she loves him is deeper than anything he could have fathomed.

"Now you're just trying to make me feel bad for drinking last night, right?" Dean jokes away the moment and it makes Lizzy cry harder. She hugs him in tightly once more.

"That's exactly what your dad would have said," she sobs out and pulls him closer. "Oh god, I just dropped so much in your lap. Are you ok?"

"No… not really," Dean admits, hugging his mother still. "I don't think it's all sunk in yet."

"It's a lot," Lizzy assures, pulling away from the hug. "Take some time. Think about it. If you have questions just ask, ok?"

Dean just nods, his head swimming with thoughts of evil and misfortune.

"I, uh," Lizzy starts, wiping her cheeks and reaching for the two journals on the table. "I want you to read them. Mostly it's monster info, logs of past hunts and helpful hunters' contacts. Some of it is… life. You might understand it all better once you get through these."

"Ok," Dean nods, sniffling a little as he takes the books from her. One is well worn through years of use. The other still looks relatively untouched.

"I hope you don't… I don't know, hate me. Or are scared of me now." Lizzy ducks her head. "I just never wanted to tell you but it wouldn't be right if I didn't."

"No, I'm glad you did," Dean makes sure she understands.

"Why?" she asks.

"Because… I always knew there was something weird about us," he admits. "Remember when we went to Disney when I was seven?"

"Yes."

"I went into your purse to get something, can't remember what it was now… but I found a canister of salt and a water bottle with a rosary in it." He huffs a small laugh. "I get it now but back then I remember thinking that was super weird."

Lizzy nods sadly. "Couldn't pack my Glock and a silver knife when going through security at the happiest place on Earth."

"And that time when I went with Kent to his lake house for a long weekend?'

"Yeah?"

"There was a little cloth bag in the bottom of my suitcase."

Lizzy nods slowly and sighs. "Hex bag. I wasn't there to protect you. I didn't sleep for four days while you were gone."

Dean leans back in his seat. "You live your life nervous every second, don't you?"

"From the second you were born," she freely admits.

Dean shakes his head and pauses, thinking. His mother is no joke. She's a warrior. She's stronger than anything he could have ever known. "You're, like, Wonder Woman. Ha, my freakin' mom is Wonder Woman."

Lizzy laughs and points at the journals. "Wonder Woman says do your homework. We'll talk again in a while."

"What's left!?" Dean asks with worry.

"Just… stuff. Whatever. Don't worry about it now. Just get to know what's in there, ok?"

"Ok, I will," Dean promises and stands up from the couch. He takes the journals and heads for the stairs.

"Do your real homework first!" Lizzy scolds him and he just sighs and leaves for his room.

And then it's quiet. Lizzy's alone after the worst conversation of her life and she still has one more to go. Dean has no idea who he really is and who he's supposed to become. That will be even harder.

Through her shirt, Lizzy presses a hand over the wedding band hanging around her neck. She lets out a soft sob when the pain becomes fresh once more after talking about her husband so much. Doing all this without him has been damn near impossible. She's miserable still and she's not sure she has the strength enough to get her son through this, not without her husband.

"I miss you so much," she tells him, hoping beyond hopes that he can hear her somehow. "Baby, I miss you."

* * *

Once more sitting out on her deck, this time with a glass of whiskey instead of mug of coffee, Lizzy's spent the better half of her afternoon there. The morning was taxing, being truthful like that to her son so hard to do, and now she's emotionally shot.

"I'm heading out for the night," she suddenly hears Sam's voice tell her as the sliding door opens a little. She cranes her neck behind her to look. His face is serious and unwelcoming at best.

"Back tomorrow?" she asks so that she won't be worried if he doesn't come home.

"I'm staying at Ruby's," he says and goes to close the door.

"Wait!" she asks of him and Sam pauses, looking at her with impatience. "Can you talk to me for just a couple minutes? You won't even be late."

"Lizzy, I'm not about to fight with you more…."

"No, no. I want to _talk_. No fighting, I promise." She shares an utterly sad smile with him and Sam falls for it. Even if they're at odds and things aren't great between them, she can still get to him.

Sam sighs and sits in the chair next to hers, both looking out at the dimming light in the sky. "What is it?"

"I want to clear the air," Lizzy tells him. "Our lives… we've had enough drama for seven lifetimes. I don't need extra and neither do you."

"I agree," Sam says stone-faced still.

"So… I'm sorry. I shouldn't say what I do about Ruby," Lizzy bites this bullet. "I had my talk with Dean today…."'

"How'd it go?" he asks, face paling.

"You'll be late if we open that can of bullshit so maybe when you get home," Lizzy admits. "He did better than I thought he would. Then again, part two hasn't been said."

"Part two?"

"His Jesus the Sequel act. I'm saving it for the next convo, so he doesn't get too scared all at once."

"Ok," Sam nods, getting it.

"Point is, while we were talking Dean told me I needed to be nicer to Ruby," Lizzy says, her stubbornness and pride taking a massive hit. "He told me you wouldn't stay a part of this family, like you have been, if I don't stop. You know how I feel about her and… maybe, even though all I was ever doing is looking out for your best interest, maybe I was over the line a couple times."

"A couple?" Sam lifts an eyebrow.

"All the times," Lizzy sighs. "I just want the best for you Sam. You've been so good to me and to Dean. I want you to be happy and in the best situation possible."

"I am happy," Sam reminds her, not lightening up yet.

She nods slowly. "I get that. But you can understand why I would be nervous of a girl fifteen years younger than you that is like her. You can get that, right?"

Sam pauses before saying, "From the outside, yes. I can understand it. But I'm on the inside. I know who she is. And… I love her."

Lizzy smiles with true disappointment. "Then don't let me stand in your way. I just… Sam, I love you. You're my family. If you're happy then… I'll be happy for you. And I'll ease up, ok?"

Shocked, Sam sits for a moment. He certainly never saw this coming. "Thanks."

"I just want to make sure you're around us still." Lizzy takes a sip of whiskey. "Of course, I'm not ever letting you two take Dean out alone ever again…."

"I'm sorry about that," Sam closes his eyes with shame. "I don't know what happened. We were eating dinner and this idea came up." He refused to mention that it was Rudy's idea. "We went overboard."

"He's still hung over," Lizzy remarks.

"It was really irresponsible."

"And nothing like you."

"Yeah," Sam trails off. He stands up, ready to leave. "Won't happen again. I can promise you that."

"Good."

"How long is he grounded for?"

"Two months."

Sam nods, knowing it's his fault. "Alright, I'm heading out."

"Have fun," Lizzy waves and looks back out at the red and purple sky, ready for more solitude.

Sam leaves silently. Lizzy sits silently. She can feel the rift already growing and it makes her sadness that much worse.

* * *

Dean spent the day reading. Every page. Front to back. His mother's journal is detailed, very intricate, and quite impressive. Ghouls, ghost, spirits, poltergeists, urban legends, they're all real. Even creatures like werewolves and vampires were real. And demons… he's sure he never wants to meet a demon now. Horrible, evil things that they are.

And Sam's in the pages towards the end, along with several other deceased children of Azazel's plan. Sam's the only one to survive. Dean has to wonder why exactly Sam's labeled as 'the favorite' in his mom's journal but for now he adds it to his list of a million questions.

The one thing he's interested in over everything else is this Castiel guy. He's mentioned here and there, once with the label 'angel of the Lord' right after his father died. Supposedly, a being visited his mother in her dreams and spoke to her about her importance among other things. That story, dream visits from an angel… it sounds familiar. And that name. Castiel. He knows that name….

But now he's onto his father's journal. So far it's just sloppy. Half entries and smart ass words for each creature break down. And every hunt he documented was done with unnecessary information. Well, that's great that Liz's ass looked great as she fought off a ghoul and saved his bacon, but did Dean's son need to know that? No. He really didn't.

But every entry he could, Dean mentioned his wife… or Liz. He admired her. He was in total awe of her and it's clear that his dad was madly in love with his mom. It's a good feeling, to know he comes from that. He may have been an accident (or so he's starting to understand) but he was the product of something serious and strong. That ain't too bad to know.

And then he reaches the last entry. It's long. And it has nothing to do with the supernatural.

_You passed out on me. Can't believe it. Not once have you done that but here we are, four days in and already we're that married couple that falls asleep without getting any nookie in. I'm so disappointed in us._

_Actually, I'm not. I'm not disappointed even a little bit. You earned a good night's sleep. I've never seen anyone do what you did today. While I followed you around like a lost, worthless puppy, taking orders and getting what you needed done, you took charge. You killed that ghoul, you showed me how to salt and burn a body in the middle of a city with nowhere to go, you dug and buried it with me, and you did all that before going back to the family it devastated and comforting them through a seriously terrible loss. _

_Never in my life have I felt that kind of pride in someone not named Sam. _

_You know I love you and why I married you… mostly. I think you're beautiful and kind and strong. And you know I just wanted legal rights to your body for the rest of our lives. But it's more than that. You're the best person I know. You're good through and through and I doubt you have the first clue of how true it is. Maybe that's why I'm here. To make sure you know you're so fucking awesome. Guess I found yet another calling in life, right?_

_I know we're doing some serious good out here, saving people and all, but I'm ready to head back to California and bring you with me. I know how hard it'll be for you, living in one place and not hunting all the time, but I think it'll be good. You deserve a rest. You've been at it for years. _

_We're going to be normal… relatively. We can hunt now and then around Stanford if anything kicks up and we'll keep our eyes open for Sammy, keep him safe. But I want so much more for you. I want to get a house together, move Sam there while he finishes up school. It'll take a while to save that kind of money but I can work overtime at the garage as much as possible and you can get a job doing… shit, I don't even know what you might want to do. I should probably ask you that. We'll save until we can get something small and then, when we do… I want a family. I want kids. I want to see you be a mom because I know you'll kick ass at it. I want it to be you and me and our rugrats running around and we're going to be happy. And yes, I just grew lady parts. Who the hell have I become?_

_Alright, I just rambled for about an hour in this thing and I'm pretty sure this isn't what it's supposed to be for. I blame you mostly, since you left me high and dry and bored. And I'm sure you'll tell me I'm not supposed to write this stuff in here the next time you check on my progress like some school teacher. Hey, maybe that's what you should do. School teacher. You'd be great at that. And, honestly, get you some black rimmed glasses and tight pencil skirt, maybe a ruler… my, my, Mrs. Winchester. I think I just found the inspiration to take care of myself tonight._

"Gross," Dean quietly comments but he's smiling anyways. Ok, so his dad is funny. And a total wise ass. And definitely driven by sex. Now he's understanding why his mom sees so much of his father in him. This could have been written by him.

But his dad was a good person, through and through. He gave up everything to help people and help his brother. He wanted to give his mom a good life with a family and boringness. He wanted to work hard, provide, be a man he can be proud to be… and he never got to do any of that.

Biting back the emotional wave that's threatening a hostile takeover, Dean sighs and closes the journal. He's learned so much in just the past twelve hours.

Over everything else scary and horrifying… he's learned how much he's disrespected a woman that should never, ever be disrespected. He got drunk that night, right after she handed over one of the only possessions she has from his dad. He skipped out on their plans to talk to hang with a woman his mother doesn't trust. In the past he's skipped events, like her birthday dinner, to go out with Cindy Shankle because he thought she was hot. And when she asked him to help her fix the broken wooden boards on the deck she loves so much? He slept over his friend's house after drinking on a private beach with a whole party of people. He's been selfish and immature and clueless as to what he was doing. And now he's utterly remorseful.

Dean quickly makes his way down the stairs to the first floor. His mom is correcting papers on the couch, a Walking Dead rerun on the TV without being watched, and he books it over to her.

"What are you…?" Lizzy starts to ask as her son pulls the stack of papers off her lap. He ducks down and wraps his arms around her neck, hugging her hard and blowing Lizzy away with his actions. She brings her arms around his back and hugs him in return. She smiles slightly. "So you read them through."

"Every entry," Dean tells her quietly. "I am so sorry, mom."

"Nothing that happened to me is your fault…."

"I mean for all the crap I've pulled," Dean tells her. She stands up, he looks right at her, and says, "I'm an ungrateful ass."

She laughs quietly at him for that. "Sweetie, no you aren't."

"Yes, I am."

"No… you're just a kid. Kids are supposed to ungrateful," Lizzy says with a smile, remembering Bobby once telling her this very thing. "And most kids don't have parents with my background."

"But I had no idea…."

"Exactly," Lizzy tells him. She cups his face and grins. "I didn't want you to know. You didn't screw up so get the guilt off your face, huh?" She kisses his cheek and lets him go.

"Well, I'm still sorry," Dean tells her anyways. "I've… I'm not gonna take advantage of you or let you down anymore. You've dealt with enough crap in your life. I don't want to add to it."

"That's a sweet sentiment… but you're a teen. You're going to fuck up…."

"See!" Dean smirks, pointing at her. "This is why you don't want that swear jar brought back."

"You're hilarious," Lizzy sarcastically responds.

"You know, I am," Dean nods, smirking. "And I'm also awesome. I'm making dinner." He heads to the kitchen without prompting.

"Wait… what!?" Lizzy calls to him, not sure she heard right. "I'm sorry, I think I'm losing my hearing…."

"You're not," Dean promises, pulling out a cookbook. "I'm making dinner." He looks at the book and sighs. "I mean, really I only know how to make spaghetti and maybe some mac and cheese from a box…."

Lizzy giggles at his honesty. "How about this? My mom used to make some killer chicken parm. I made it for your dad once and he flipped out. The man's heart was in his stomach."

"Man after my own… well, heart," Dean smirks at her.

"That is very true," she tells him, pulling a package of chicken from the refrigerator. "I'll help you make it. That way you know the Noonan recipe and you can impress some cute girl in a few years with your cooking skills."

Dean nods. "I like the way you think."

"Figured you would." She laughs again and pulls ingredients from cupboards from memory.

"Hey, ah… mom?"

"Mmhmm?"

"In dad's journal he wrote something about you and him taking care of a ghost in Oregon."

"Ah, yeah," Lizzy recalls immediately. "It was a brewery. They recently bought and renovated an old warehouse…."

"And it woke up the spirit that was stuck there," Dean nods, the information still fresh. "And one of the employees was an old friend of yours."

"Right!" Lizzy smiles as she cracks a couple eggs into a shallow dish. "I met him on a hunt in Washington State, where he used to live. He called me again when stuff got weird at the warehouse. He knew what I did."

"Dad mentioned in his entry that you guys hung around a few days and visited some breweries… and he wished he had the time to brew his own. It looked fun."

"Oh man, he was planning on home brewing the second we got back to Palo Alto and settled down," Lizzy says, handing him the bowl and a fork to beat the eggs. "He was fascinated by it all. Wanted to see if he could handle it and not suck at it, his words. Then he'd mentioned the idea of having a brewery if he was good. Sounded fun to him."

"Well… what if that's my calling?" Dean asks his mom. "I know this is probably a bad topic after I got drunk last night and all… but I've been thinking a lot about what to do with my life. I think owning my own business would be good for me."

"Well, you do hate being told what to do," Lizzy nods.

"And if I'm the boss I don't have to answer to anyone," he says, beating the eggs as Lizzy pauses to listen to him. "Plus, I'll have to be accountable for my actions and decisions… no slacking allowed."

"That's true," Lizzy nods, thinking about it.

"And… who knows, you know? Maybe if dad was still around he'd have a brewery by now," Dean explains. "Maybe he'd follow through with it. I think it might be cool to do something like that, to do something dad wanted to do… and something I think is pretty damn cool at the same time."

Lizzy's heart nearly explodes. Her boy wants to honor his dad. She couldn't be more proud of him.

"Well, first of all, if you want to own your own business I suggest you get some business classes under your belt," Lizzy tells him. "I think that'd be pretty crucial."

"Oh, me too," Dean nods, smiling.

"Plus, I think waiting another 5 years so that you're allowed to legally drink your own product would be a good idea."

"Yeah, that's true," he laughs at himself. "I'm not saying it's definitely what I want to do or that I want to get on this tomorrow. It's just… I know you want me to think about the future. Well, that's a thought I had. One I would probably like."

"I hate that you already know you like beer enough to make it someday," Lizzy eyes him.

Dean looks at her with pure guilt. "I'm sorry, mom…."

"Stop it," she assures him. "I remember what I was like as a kid… and so do you since you read my journal."

"You were a little…."

"Rebellious?" Lizzy laughs. "Hey, I made my own trouble when I was younger. We all did. Your dad was no exception either. We drank." She shrugs.

"You've had enough to deal with," Dean tells her. "I don't want to add to it."

"Did you ever drive after drinking?" Lizzy wonders.

"What are you, crazy" Dean asks her with pure honesty.

"Have you ever made any… _unsafe_ decisions while drinking?" she further prods.

"You're trying to ask if I'm wearing a condom when I have sex," Dean wonders, looking right at her and not at all shying away from this conversation.

Lizzy's eyes couldn't have gotten wider. "If you want to be blunt about it."

Dean grins. "You know, there was a lot of information about you and dad in those journals. You were aware of that when you handed them over, right?"

Lizzy shifts awkwardly on her feet. "Sadly… yes. That was a part of the truth you needed to know."

"So, you can talk to me about that stuff, mom. It's cool," Dean smiles. "And… yes. The _one time _I needed to wear a condom, I did."

Her face is unreadable at first. She blinks a few times and Dean looks away, now a little weirded out by what he's told her.

"Ugh," Lizzy finally lets out a sound of complaint as she presses a hand to her forehead. "My little boy isn't a virgin anymore."

"Alright, mom…." Dean rolls his eyes.

"God, when did I get so old!?" she wonders. "And please tell me this was recently! You're only sixteen!"

"I got a… birthday present… from a girl," Dean slowly admits. "We were drinking in the woods. I only had a few. She came onto me and honestly, I didn't think it was gonna go that far."

Lizzy looks at him with a sad face, purposely pouting out her bottom lip.

"Don't look at me like that!"

"I hate how old you are," she half whines as she leans her head into his shoulder… that's eyes level with her already.

"Can't stop it from happening," Dean laughs a little.

"God, you're talking to me about beer and sex… and yesterday it was about SpongeBob and baseball practice. Stop getting older."

Dean brings an arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple. "Can't shut this down, mom. Sorry."

"I know," she pushes him playfully away and gets back to making dinner. "Hey, uh, the next time you have sex can it be with a girl you really like and care about, please? Casual isn't good for anyone."

"You would know!" Dean evil eyes her and Lizzy's shocked expression stares back at her. "You met dad that way!"

She opens her mouth to rebut him but she has absolutely nothing. He's totally right.

Dean laughs. "Just kidding, mom. I'll make sure the next time that it's a girl I really like…."


	57. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 20)

**Three Years Later**

"Dean, fuck!" she yells out, Dean still gripping her wrists and pressing them into the pillow over her head. Eyes rolled back, her voice loud, she comes undone and Dean gives in now that she's there.

Letting out a huge breath when it's over, Dean collapses to her side. "Hell yeah."

"Oh… shit," the woman next to him smiles out, a hand to her forehead. She catches her breath and looks over to him. "Love when you come over here unannounced."

"You mean you love when I come over here when your husband's not home?" Dean smirks at her hard, knowing that their affair adds to the fun for her.

"Both," she answers quickly, leaning into his side and planting a serious, still burning kiss onto his lips.

"I gotta jet," Dean tells her, sitting up in her king sized bed in the near mansion of a house.

"Yeah, he'll be back soon," she says after looking at the clock on the night stand. "You better go."

"Yeah, mom'll be waiting for me anyways," he tells her, getting out of bed and searching for his clothes.

She eyes him hard, his form filling out nicely with all muscle and lean strength. He's a beautiful man. She can't help but indulge her sights with all that is a young, nearly twenty year old Dean Winchester Jr. "When are you gonna move outta there? I mean, your mom is…."

"Overbearing?" Dean asks. "Yeah, I know. So do you."

"Seen it firsthand plenty of times," she agrees. "Plus, if you have your own place…." She gets out of the large bed to walk to him. She runs a hand down the side of his face, smiling with something sexy. "I could just come to you and we wouldn't risk getting caught here every single time."

"Working on it," he promises, kissing her lips again. She's so hot, this little five foot, dark haired beauty. It was easy to fall for her once she made it clear she was interested. "Maybe if I get my own place you'll realize you should ditch the old-man husband and come with me."

She laughs. "You start making the money that he makes… sure, I'll leave him for you." She bends down and hands over his boots now that Dean's dressed. "He's working Saturday again. Can you come by around noon?"

"Gotta work that day," Dean laments, sitting at the foot of the bed to put his boots on. "But I can see you Monday."

"Monday it is then," she grins. She watches him tie his shoes, smiling like an idiot. It was too easy to corrupt him. Too easy to get him to ditch the whole good boy, do what's right bullshit. Hell sure left its mark deep inside him… and now she's just nurturing it. One bad decision at a time.

"Alright, I'm outta here before Uncle Sam gets home," Dean tells her as he stands up, leaning down to kiss her goodbye.

"I'll see you soon, baby," she smirks, looking at him with lust-laden eyes.

"Bye, Ruby," Dean smiles and heads out of the house, falling a little harder for his aunt-by-marriage every time they meet like this.

* * *

"Finally!" Lizzy complains when the door to her house opens. She doesn't get a greeting in return as she listens to what she already knows is her son shuffle around the kitchen. "Where were you?"

"Out," is the simple answer she gets from an already full mouth. He's taking a bite of dinner as he stands over the stove, a _cold_ dinner that she waited to eat with him.

Lizzy drops the tests she was going over from class to head right for the kitchen, finding him drinking straight from the milk carton. "Out where?"

He finishes chugging with an 'ah' and shoves the milk back into the refrigerator, pushing the door shut. "Just out." He shrugs and grabs a plate from a cupboard.

"Dean, you told me you'd be home for dinner…."

"And I wasn't," he makes light of it as he scoops spaghetti onto his plate. "So what?"

"So what?" she asks. "So I asked you to be home on time. I made dinner…."

"And I'm gonna eat it, don't worry," Dean smiles at her patronizingly.

"Yeah, no kidding you'll eat it," Lizzy gets angrier. "I was hoping you'd sit down with me, have a hot meal, and actually talk to your mother instead of avoid her for no reason."

"Well, I got caught up. What do you want me to say?" Dean asks, not looking at her as he completes his plate of chicken parmesan and a couple slices of garlic bread.

"I want you to be sorry for being late," Lizzy explains. "I want you to want to be around me for more than a couple minutes at a time. You used to actually like me."

Dean doesn't respond to that as he grabs a fork.

"Hey," Lizzy calls to him to get him to look at her. He pauses and does. "I know things have been… tense with us."

"You keep thinking you can tell me what to do," Dean reminds her of what has him on edge the past few years.

"And you keep scaring me with how… different you've been," Lizzy says lightly, not looking to fight. Not today. "But I care about you and what happens to you. And I'm your mom. That's my job."

Dean rolls his eyes to tell him her he's done talking about everything.

"But tonight… I just wanted one night where we'd be… I don't know, friends again." She sighs. "Where we can speak to each other kindly. And not fight. I wanted just one night."

He doesn't answer her.

"Please?"

Dean sighs. "I got some work to do," he tells her, not looking at her again as he heads for the stairs, locking himself up in his room like he usually does.

And when he's gone, Lizzy stands there heartbroken once more. She can't figure out what the hell has happened to her son. He was so good through most of his teenaged years, only screwing up now and then, and he had a purpose in life. He was going to own a business, go to school and get a degree. Now, he barely attends the classes he's signed up for at the local community college and he disappears for hours on end, unaccounted for. At almost twenty he should be planning his life out. Instead he seems to have no motivation to do so when he once did.

He had been on the right track. Where did she go wrong with him?

Lizzy makes herself a plate for dinner. She then heats it up in the microwave and sits alone at the kitchen table. She can't help but think that if her husband was around still he'd make this day better. He'd come home with flowers, maybe make dinner for her, bring her to bed with promises of really enjoyable, all-about-her sex. Instead, she's alone with her son going off all rails and a broken heart.

"Well, happy fucking birthday to me," Lizzy mutters to herself, taking a bite of her dinner and barely tasting it. Her life is a mess.

* * *

Monday morning comes and Sam's ready for his day. Suit on, looking sharp, he's ready for court.

"Come here," he hears Ruby's voice says from behind him and when he turns he sees her walking towards him, her red silky nightgown still on as her long dark hair falls around her shoulders all tousled with sleep. She straightens his tie for him as he looks her over.

"Wish I could stick around," Sam says to her. "You're looking good this morning."

Ruby grins widely. "You can't. Court date. You need to make that money, honey." She winks up at him.

"That I do. Luckily I should be able to settle this and be home early," Sam nods, leaning down to kiss her. Married for a year, he's still insanely attracted to her. She's beautiful. She's sexy. She's everything he could ever want.

"So glad you ditched the whole public defender thing," she laughs.

"Yeah, the real money _is_ in criminal defense," Sam laughs, picking up his briefcase. "And you're expensive."

"You wanna keep me happy, don't you?" she grins wide.

"Absolutely," Sam smiles back, kissing her one more time, his free hand coming around her lower back as he feels her though her nightgown.

"Don't start up," Ruby tells him, smacking his ass through his suit pants. "Get going."

"Alright, alright," Sam rolls his eyes and heads for the front door. "I love you."

"I love you more," she says back and waits for it. When the door closes and he's gone, she walks for her phone on the night stand. She has a plan for today.

Quickly texting 'Deanna', she presses send.

_I'm home alone already. You coming by?_

It takes all of two minutes for him to respond.

_On my way! Don't get dressed. ;) _

She grins wide and texts back.

_Only thing I'm wearing are my sheets. Come and get me._

This will be perfect.

* * *

Dean hustles down the stairs of his house, more than ready to get it in good while he can. Ruby sent a text to him and he's ready to meet her, like always. He knows he's been at her beck and call for a while now but he doesn't care. Good sex is worth it. Plus… he might be, maybe starting to fall for her. Any amount of time he can get in with her would be good. He doesn't want to hurt his uncle, never… but he can't help how he feels. He never saw it coming.

"Going to class?" Lizzy asks as he nearly makes it to the front door.

Dean winces. "Yep. Better get going…."

"Without your books?" she challenges, Dean turning to look at her and seeing the anger. "Where are you really going?"

"What does it matter?" Dean has to wonder. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"No, you aren't. But you're still my son," she reminds him. "And I still love you. I'm paying for you to take classes. Please, just go to them and better yourself."

Dean sighs. "I don't think I want to go anymore."

Lizzy closes her eyes.

"I don't want to own a business, ok? I'm young. I changed my mind."

"Then what do you _want_ to do?" Lizzy asks him, desperate for something from him. "Just tell me. I can help. That's what I'm here for."

"I want to… live for a little bit. I'll figure it out later." Dean reaches for the doorknob.

"What happened to you!?" Lizzy gets fired up, standing up. "A couple years ago you were ready to take on the world, build your business. You had a plan. You had motivation."

"Didn't you ever go through a rebellious phase?" he asks her in challenge.

"Yeah… and in it I fought evil creatures and saved people's lives!" she rebuts. "You're just… drifting. And you're drifting away from me."

"Gotta cut the cord at some point," Dean tells her, opening the door. She rushes over and pushes the door closed. "What the hell!?"

"Where is my son!?" she shouts at him. "Because you certainly aren't him!"

"No, you just don't like who he's turning out to be!" Dean yells right back. "That's not my problem!"

"My son used to care about me," Lizzy tells him in a heartfelt tone, standing in his way with her back to the door. "He used to talk to me!"

"Because you'd nag me to!"

"Nag you!?" she disbelieves. "Dean, there isn't another person on this Earth that I love more than you!"

Dean rolls his eyes.

"And you used to love me too."

"I still love you…"

"No you don't," she gets choked up. "Because if you did… you wouldn't have let me eat a cold dinner alone on my birthday."

Dean pauses, backing up a step. Her birthday? When… shit. It was days ago, when he came home late and ate alone in his room. Maybe she makes a good point. Maybe he's off the rails.

And his phone buzzes in his pocket. Ruby. He needs to get to her while he can.

"I forgot, ok?" Dean goes on the defensive. "I'm sorry. I'll… make it up to you."

"You keep saying things like that," Lizzy tells him, sniffling once as she gets upset. "But you never do. You just keep living your life, making mistakes and standing still."

"I'm fine," Dean reminds her once again. "I'll be fine. I'm just… taking a moment to be… whatever."

"And that's what I'm afraid of," Lizzy explains. "I don't want you wasting your life."

"You want me to hunt?" Dean asks.

"No!" she punches out instantly. "God, no! I don't want you hunting!"

"Then what do you want from me? I'm figuring it out…."

"You're taking your time about it," Lizzy points out.

"Jesus, you're like a brick wall," Dean gives up. "Mom, get out of the way."

Her sad face stares up at him. "No."

"Move." Dean's getting pissed.

"No. Stay here, talk to me. We can figure it all out…."

"Fuck this," Dean says and grabs his mother's arm. He yanks her away from the door and pulls it open with force. "Don't wait up."

He slams the door behind him and a shocked Lizzy stands there, looking at the door without knowing what to do. He's gone. She can't get him back. He won't listen to reason, he won't find a true path in life… she's completely at a loss with him.

Leaning against the wall by the door, Lizzy slides down until she's sitting there in the floor, holding her arm. He hurt her. Her little boy, the bright eyed and sweet young man that used to sit in her lap and read books with her and wouldn't hurt a fly, just grabbed hard and hurt her. It's minimal, not marks left, but still….

"What is going on?" she whispers to herself, confused. It's happening so fast and she can't get him back.

And her husband… he would be devastated to see his own son like this. She's failing them both.

"I need you," she cries and lets it out, tears falling when she's defeated. "Dean, I need help. What do I do here?"

* * *

"She won't get the fuck off my case!" Dean complains, pacing the floor of Ruby and Sam's bedroom as Ruby sits up in bed, naked under the sheets like she promised. "I mean, I'm young! Where is there a written fucking rule that I have to figure out my life _right now_!?"

"There isn't," Ruby agrees with him, like always. She always agrees when he's raging out about his mother. "But she's… Lizzy. She's always been this way. Short leash, you know?"

"I'm not some dog. I'm not gonna just obey her," Dean tells the woman trying to calm him. "I want to live my own life. I want to do what I want to do."

"Well then, move out," Ruby suggests. "Hell, move in _here_."

Dean's eyes go wider than wide at the idea. "Ah… that was a joke, right?"

"Why not!?" Ruby lights up. "You could live rent free, get away from your mom, Sam would feel like he's helping his nephew… and you and I could see each other way more often."

He thinks about it for a second. She makes some very good points. But still. "That's too dangerous. We can't do that."

"The offer is there," Ruby tells him.

"Thank for that. But I'll figure something out," Dean tells her, hands on his hips. "She just pisses me off so damn much. You've been right about her all along, Ruby. Even when you first met her you saw it."

"She's controlling," Ruby shrugs. "You don't need her anymore and she doesn't see it."

Dean nods.

"But… I know you need _me_," she smiles seductively, letting the sheets slowly lower down her naked form, watching as Dean reacts.

"I need you. For sure," he nods, already hard in his jean like the horny adolescent he really is.

"Why don't you come here," she blinks flirtatiously as she opens her arms to him. "Have some stress relieving fun with me. Then we can find you an apartment. I'll help."

A small, adoring smile spreads across his face. "I don't deserve you, Ruby."

"Yes you do, now come here!" she laughs and Dean kicks off his sneakers. He then runs and jumps up onto the bed and onto her. "Let me make it all better…."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Just as he thought, Sam got his client's case settled out of court. It was a million and a half deal but hey, the guy evaded jail time when he deserved it. There's a major price for that.

But these days Sam doesn't make his own judgments on his clients that he takes on. No, that's for the courts to decide. It makes getting rich, guilty men off the hook easier to do that way.

At just before noon time, Sam's smiling as he walks into his house through the garage. Home early, rest of the day with his wife. Maybe he can take her to that new trendy spot downtown for dinner tonight….

Sam freezes when he can hear a moan echo through the large halls of their large house. Ruby's moaning. And she's doing it in a way he's heard her moan a million times.

Holy shit. She's getting in some solo time and he's walking in on it. This free half day just got even better.

Not wanting to interrupt her, Sam quietly drops his briefcase and pulls off his shiny wingtips. He then walks through the foyer, sliding off his jacket while listening. Music to his ears. He had no idea she was this loud when she was alone. It's a turn on like no other.

By the time he has his tie loosened and he's standing outside the cracked bedroom door, Sam's ready to pounce on her. He wastes no time opening the door and stepping inside.

And then his heart stops.

In front of him is Ruby on her back laying sideways across the mattress of their massive bed, back arched and voice loud. In between her legs Sam can see a crop of dark, almost black hair that hair belonging to someone that's making her moan like that.

"What the fuck is this!?" Sam booms out with total and consuming fury instantly.

Two sets of eyes snap onto him, both shocked by the interruption. He recognizes the face of his nephew once he's stopped using his mouth on his wife right away.

"_Dean_!?"

Neither answer him, both so shocked by his presence.

"I… uh…" Dean stutters, never having thought this would happen.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Sam fires out loud and furious as he marches towards Dean, the much younger man in just his jeans at this point.

"Uncle Sam, stop!" Dean tries to get Sam to listen as he stands up, hands out in front of him in surrender. The hulking, tall man keeps charging at him. "Just listen!"

"What the hell are you doing!?" Sam asks, already knowing what Dean was doing, as he reaches him. He pulls his fist back and throws a punch Dean wasn't ready for.

When the large fist connects with his cheek straight on, Dean groans with pain and falls over onto his side on the carpeted bedroom floor, back against the wall.

"Sam!" Ruby screams at him as she pulls the sheet over her naked body. "Don't hit him!"

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Sam turns his focus to Ruby, ire coursing through his veins. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Ruby tries to placate him. "Calm down and just talk to me…."

"Calm down!?" he disbelieves his ears. "I find you fucking around with my _nephew_ and _I_ have to calm down? Fuck you, Ruby!"

"Uncle Sam, just listen a minute," Dean pleads as evenly as he can despite the fire in his gut telling him to fight back.

"To what!?" Sam asks, giving into his own buried anger. "What excuse could you possibly have for this?"

"I… I don't know," Dean admits, standing tall and ignoring the sharp pain in his cheek. "But you gotta relax."

The look in Sam's eyes the second he says this has Dean fearing for his life suddenly. Sam reaches for him, grabs him by the neck with both hands, and slams his back into the wall.

"Relax!?" Sam screams in Dean's face. "You're fucking my wife! You're supposed to be my family!"

"Unc… Sa…." Dean tries to say his name but he can't. His uncle is stronger than he could have ever figured. His air is cut off and he can't breathe.

"I practically raised you!" Sam keeps yelling, his anger out of control.

"Sam stop it!" Ruby panics as she watches, getting out of bed. She runs to Sam and grabs his arm, trying to pull it free.

"I was there for you! And this is what I get for that!?" Sam rants on, glancing at Ruby when she tries to help Dean. Swinging his arm out to the side to shake her off, Ruby ends up falling hard into the nightstand with the force of the push.

When Dean hears her voice cry out in pain he sees red. He's furious. Ruby's hurt. Sam hurt her.

Sam brings his hand back to Dean's throat, the buried fury he always knew he had in him pouring out now. He can't stop himself. He wants to hurt Dean for what he did. He might even want to kill him.

And Dean's done. He slips into the ire, the anger and hate that's always been rooted deeply in him. No thinking required, his hands move on their own. Dean presses his hands to Sam's chest. His eyes light up without warning, a deep, twisted pool of both blue and black equally.

Sam watches his eyes change as Dean stares him down. They glow a dark, starry blue out of nowhere. "What the hell…?"

Before he can finish his sentence Sam's body telekinetically flies through the air, his back hitting the opposite wall with massive force before falling onto the floor and crumbling into a heap.

Dean pulls his hands back and drops them to his sides sharply, scared to death by whatever it is that just happened. Eyes wide, he watches Sam roll on the floor in utter pain, groaning with it and curling into himself.

"What… I, wh-what…." Dean stutters as he's shocked. He never even pushed his uncle. He made him fly back into the wall but he barely even touched him. Where did that force some from? Maybe he's in shock. He doesn't know what the hell just happened.

"Dean?"

Ruby's voice cuts through the dazed awe he's in. He looks to her on the floor, still naked, and helps her to her feet. When she stands up he can see the black and blue bruise on her side already forming. It angers him even more.

"You're hurt," Dean tells her.

"I've had worse from him," she quickly replies.

Dean blinks once, confused by the ominous statement. "What's that mean?"

The look she gives him is one of pure guilt. "It's nothing. We've just… you know, Sam's gotten mad before. He gets mad."

Dean glances at Sam, still on the floor under the cracked plaster on the wall where his back collided. "He's hurt you before?"

"It was nothing," Ruby tries to play it off now that she's spilled the beans.

It's then that Dean sees her upper arm, bruises in the shape of a large hand on her skin that he didn't notice before now. He's getting a picture in his head now. Sam's hurting her.

With the thought Dean's eyes begin to glow again. Ire is his trigger.

And he misses the actual smile on Ruby's face when she sees it in him. She's getting him right where she wants him. She lets her face drop again to hide her happiness. "Dean, it's fine…."

"It's not fine," he nearly growls out, his protective nature combining with his anger. Once he's allowed himself access to this level of fury, this darkness in him, he's letting it out in droves.

Going with pure instinct, Dean raises his right hand with his palm facing Sam. Eyes glowing brighter with a deep blue, he can feel a force within him. He pushes that energy out of his hand and onto Sam.

"No!" Sam screams out, the pain within him flaring up to horrifying places. He can feel himself being twisted, ripped apart from the inside. He's dying, he knows it. He has to try and stop it. He locks eyes with Dean. "Dean… please…."

In that quick moment, the pain and fear in Sam's eyes makes Dean weak. This is his uncle. This is the man that helped raised him, let him watch scary movies and stay up late, the guy that lied for him so many times and saved ass when his mother got pissed, and he's the guy that gave him his first beer. He loves his uncle.

"He hurt me, Dean," Ruby's voice suddenly appears in his ear. Her hand comes to his shoulder as she pushed him to do it. "He'll just do it again."

"Dean…." Sam's weakened voice tries one last time.

"Do it," Ruby says, smirking. "Do it, Dean. Set me free."

Dean gets angrier.

"Set _yourself_ free."

He will.

Dean closes his glowing eyes and concentrates. He can feel it happening, see it through lowered lids. Sam's dying. He's killing him. And he _wants_ to.

The struggling sounds Sam makes don't concern him enough anymore. The fire in his gut it taking over. He's ready for this. He knows this darkness that's always been deeply buried in him is taking over. He feels good, better than he has in so long. He's been denying it, shoving it away all his life. But the more he fell into the anger and madness, the better he's feeling. And now… he feels magnificent.

With one final burst of energy, Sam's eyes set fire in a blaze of white and burn out into hollow holes. He screams something tortured and almost inhuman before going completely still, the black emptiness of his eyes staring out lifelessly.

And it's over. Dean lifts his lids and sees the unmoving form of his uncle on the floor, blood trickling out of his mouth and nose as his hazels eyes are all but gone, completely empty.

The power surge within Dean ebbs away, the anger slowly receding, until he's left with the reality of it all. He sees what he's done. He killed someone. He killed his own family. "Fuck." He huffs a couple panicked breaths. "Oh, shit. What did I do?"

"You set yourself free," he hears Ruby says. He turns around to find her standing there next to him still, looking up at him with jet black eyes.

"Fuck!" Dean backs away from her quickly, heart racing. He recalls all the information his hunting mother shared with him during their talks a few years ago. "You… you're a demon?"

"Have been for a long while now," she says with a light smile. He still looks horrified. "Oh, come on! You had to know something was up with me."

"I always did think you were a little mean," Dean admits. "But… a _demon_?"

"Hey, we're not _all_ bad," Ruby tells him, walking to her closet to grab a robe. "Not every single one of us wants to kill and maim. Some of us are… more normal."

"You… holy shit! You wanted me to kill Uncle Sam!" Dean realizes now that it's over and the fury isn't ruling him. "You told me to do it! That's not normal!"

"He was hurting me!" Ruby's eyes return from their blackout and she points to her arm, the bruise reminding him, before she pulls her robe over her shoulders. "That's what's not normal."

"Fuck," Dean sighs out yet again as he looks down at the unmoving body. He weaves his fingers together at the back of his head and looks down at his uncle. He did that. "I killed someone. I killed my uncle." He can't believe this is happening. "How did I do that?"

"You're special," Ruby tells him, tying her robe closed and casually walking back to him. She's wholly unfazed. "You know, because of the angel DNA and the trip to Hell you took before you were born."

Dean remains completely silent as he stares at her, face pale with more fear.

"Are you serious?" Ruby gets upset when she figures it out. "Lizzy never told you?"

"Told me what!?"

She rolls her eyes impatiently. "I thought you guys had a whole heart to heart about everything."

"We did… but I guess we never finished it," Dean admits. He ended up turning a pretty bad corner right around that time, right after she gave him the hunting talk. She wanted to continue it with him, saying she had more to share. He didn't listen. That was when he started to pull away from her… right around the time Ruby started texting him daily.

"Jesus, kid," Ruby shakes her head with disappointment. "Ok, so… I'll tell you all about it on the way."

"Where are we going?" Dean has to ask, unsure of what she's taking about.

"Away!" she tells him, grabbing a large duffle bag from under the bed. She starts throwing weaponry and occult items into it from a box she pulls from the very back of her closet.

"Away where!?" Dean asks. "I'm a fucking murderer, Ruby! There's no hiding from that!"

"Yes there is," she tells him. "Just let me pack some things and we can go."

"I… I can't leave." Dean kneels onto the floor at a total loss, the world around him collapsing quickly. He has powers. He used his powers. He killed another human. He killed his very family, his blood. "I can't. I have to… I did this. I have to pay for that. I mean, he's my uncle. And mom…."

"Oh, fuck your mom, Dean!" Ruby yells. "I'm sick of how attached to her you are. I thought she was the one holding on with an iron grip but, buddy… it's you holding onto her."

Dean shakes his head and reaches out to his uncle. While Ruby packs up, Dean grabs Sam's arm. He shakes him, Sam's body moving with the force but not responding. He's gone. He's really gone.

Tears falls down his face silently as total, consuming shock truly hits.

"I'm a killer," Dean says, accepting it.

Ruby gets onto the floor in front of him when she sees that more damage control is needed, looking at Dean with a sincere face as she grabs his jaw. "You stay here and get arrested, then you'll rot in jail… all because you wanted to help me and because you defended yourself."

Dean just shakes his head no.

"You don't deserve to be locked up," Ruby tells him. "And how are you going to explain what happened here, huh? How do you explain that you burnt out Sam's eyes with your powers?"

"I didn't… I had no idea… I had powers," Dean barely gets out. He's at a loss. He needs help and guidance on this one. "Ruby… what do I do?"

She can see the young man's panic. She softens her expression and kisses his lips once, trying to convey feeling and love for him. "You come with me. We'll run. We'll hide. We'll be happy together, no one to tell us what to do or control us. Doesn't that sound nice, baby?"

He watches her smile kindly, her eyes adoring on him, and with the shock he's going through he sees no other option that could possible make more sense than this. He can't go home. His mother… he can't face her after this. And Sam… she's right, he'll rot for Sam.

He needs to go.

"Dean?" Ruby gets him out of his head. "Baby, I love you. Let me help you."

Dean vacantly nods, realizing everything he knows is gone now. He doesn't panic though. The shock is still too strong. "We need to… change the plates. On my car."

"We will. A few states over," Ruby smiles wide. "Let me pack some things. Then we can go."

She stands and rushes for her walk in closet. As she packs the most basic things, she can't stop grinning like an idiot. She thought she was on the right track before, getting in with Sam and being loved and trusted by him. But he wasn't as strong as she'd hoped. He never flexed his demonic powers and he just wouldn't fall completely for her tricks. He was older by the time she found him, too old. He knew who he was, he was strong in mind by then, and he wasn't moldable.

Dean… well, he's just a puppy waiting to be trained. He's lost in life and desperate for a direction.

When she looks at the bruises on her upper arm, the ones she gave herself to convince Dean to do what he had to in order to set him irreversibly down his new path with her, she smiles. Damn, she's good.

Once packed despite not needing anything, really, Ruby looks up to find Dean draping a bed sheet over his uncle's unmoving form with tears in his eyes.

"Dean, we really need to move," Ruby tells him, trying to separate him from the last he'll see of his family.

"Ok," he sadly responds. He gets up, she grabs his hand, and they leave the lives they've led for years behind them.


	58. Same Shit, Different Reality (Part 21)

**This was supposed to be two-three chapters... but I couldn't wait. I don't know when life will allow me to update again anyways so here's the ending of our last alternate reality. **

* * *

"Elizabeth Winchester?"

Lizzy looks up from her seat behind a metal table in the stark, cinder-block walled interrogation room with big one-way mirror at the police station.

"Yeah," she says with a scared, devastated voice as she sits up when the man in a suit walks in. She's been alone in her misery for the last twenty minutes. When they picked her up at the elementary school right after the day ended and the kids were on the buses home, she had no idea why. They explained quickly that Sam was found dead in his home and his wife was missing.

She didn't believe it.

And then she had to identify him at the morgue and it all became far too real.

Sam was dead. Sam was killed, he's dead… and she let her husband down. He asked her to do one thing. Dean's dying wish was for her to look after Sam and keep him safe. But she failed, getting complacent after years of quiet, and she knows she failed because of the state Sam was left in. Eye sockets empty and burned out, he was destroyed from the inside out. She hasn't seen anything like it since her husband's death at the hands of an angel but what she saw, well that was no angel… not exactly. It looked different. It _felt_ different.

Something got to Sam and she doesn't know what the hell it could possibly have been.

"My name is Detective Henriksen," he man says to her in a cold tone as he sits in the empty chair across from her, a folder placed on the table. "I'd like to ask you a few questions if I can."

"Where's my son?" Lizzy immediately asks, wiping her face from tears. "I need to… tell Dean. I just… I want to be the one to tell him. He shouldn't find out from some stranger."

Sitting with his suit neat and eyes narrowed at her, the FBI agent pauses with her request as he didn't expect such genuine worry to come from her.

"We'll get to him in a moment," Henriksen tells her, elbows on the table and hands folded. "I'm assuming you know Sam's wife, Ruby Winchester?"

"Yes," Lizzy nods. "For years. Sam was living with my son and me when they first met."

"Ah, yes," Henriksen says, opening a manila folder and looking at notes. "The house you currently live in was in both your and Sam's names until he moved out three years back, correct?"

Lizzy's face wrinkled with wonder, unsure what kind of question that is and why he'd have such information. "Yes. After my husband passed away, before my son was born, Sam and I moved in together. He helped me when I needed it the most. He was practically a father to my son, Dean, since… his father couldn't be there for him."

"Oh, that's right," Henriksen says, pulling a photo of Dean out of the file and turning it around, placing it in front of her. "That's your husband… Dean Winchester Senior?"

Her emotions roll when his license photo stares up at her, that face that haunts her dreams still to this day just a handsome and youthful as she recalls. "Yes," her choked voice answers. "That's him. Sam's brother."

"Now, the records are a little hazy here, Lizzy. May I call you Lizzy?" he asks with an edge and doesn't wait for an answer. "See, he dropped off the grid for a good five or six months before he died, only popping up here and there when he'd check into a motel or stop into a gas station with his old junker Impala but mostly… he disappeared the second he met you."

Lizzy, sits back in her chair, back ridged as her heart skips with utter fear. "How did you…?"

"Know that?" he finishes with a caustic tone. "I was really hoping you'd ask that question. See, I've been following you for years, Lizzy."

Her face pales ten shades with the information.

"I can tell this is a shock to you," Henriksen says with a smirk. "So let me explain to you _why_ I've been on your ass for so long yet you and I haven't met until today."

He pauses and spreads out a long line of pages and pictures for her, everything making her feel like she'll throw up any second. Profiles, reports on murders and identity theft, pictures of her from security cameras and possibly stake outs… the ceiling is collapsing around her.

"You, my sneaky little friend, have been an open case for me for twenty years. You cost me two promotions, one marriage, and my sanity. And now..." Victor looks at her sitting there handcuffed and just smiles.

She can feels the chill run down her spine with the look in his victorious eyes.

"It all started with your family," Henriksen points to the original report of the murders from when she was just a teen. "According to you, an intruder came into your house and murdered each and every member of your family… yet you're the only one to survive."

With tears slowly rolling, she looks at him with confusion. "Because I jumped out of a second story window to get away. I broke bones, had a severe concussion…."

"Yeah, and no one has ever come up with the brilliant idea to injure themselves in order to look like a victim and get out of a crime they committed before you," he responds sarcastically, making it clear that he doesn't believe her.

She needs a moment to register his accusation. "You think I did… _that_? To my own family?"

"The doors were locked from the inside," Henriksen tells her. "And the murder weapon was a field hockey stick… _your_ field hockey stick. With only one set of prints on it. Yours."

Now she _is_ going to throw up.

"You want to know what I think happened?" Henriksen asks and doesn't wait to hear her answer once again. "I think you found out about your parents upping their life insurance just a month before you bludgeoned them to death."

"What!?" Lizzy asks, having had no idea her parents touched their policies. She didn't even know they _had_ policies until she was paid out once they died.

"And when you found out how lucrative their deaths would be for you, and _only_ you if your siblings were out of the way, you started planning."

"_No_," she shakes her head slowly, feeling even sicker. She can see her little brother in her head, his little form that never got to grow up smiling like he always did.

"And when you figured it all out… you locked your brother and sister in their rooms and you went after your parents first, while they were sleeping."

"_I didn't touch them_…."

"And then you offed your brother, easy pickings once the larger, strong adults were out of the way," Henriksen keeps going without stopping, never showing any form of remorse or sympathy for her as she wells up with fresh tears. "And then came Louise."

"Lou was my best friend," Lizzy dangerously warns, her sister being even more than just a sister to her. Now all she can see is her golden-haired, blue eyed younger best friend. They loved each other to a deep, unique point and the thought that she'd ever hurt Lou makes her want to scream. "I would never do anything to her! I loved her! I loved my family!"

"A very good front for a very good sociopath with psychopathic tendencies," Henriksen brushes off, letting her know the label he's put on her through his investigation. "You see, you fooled the local police well enough. An intruder came in… yeah, sure. You seemed like a girl that had been through hell and back. Injured on escape. Hysterical. All the signs of a trauma victim… or a really good actor."

Her head is swimming. He's completely sure that she killed her family. The family that's left a massive hole in her heart for twenty years.

"I would…" she tries to speak but gets cut off by her crying. "I would never… do that to them."

"See, good actor," Henriksen wags a finger at her, sure that she's the true culprit. "But you had blood all over you…."

"My sister's blood," she explains quickly. "He… he started killing her right in front of me!"

"And it was all a little too neat, wasn't it? I mean, some guy you could barely describe kills your family with zero motive at all? Nothing stolen? No money taken? Please! There's _always_ a motive."

"True evil doesn't need a motive," Lizzy says down to the table, her head bowed in loss as that horrible night now replays in her head.

"Sounds like you know that all too well, Lizzy," Henriksen eyes her hard. "Because after that I know you collected your insurance money, sold off everything, and went off the grid, hid from the world."

Her heart sinks to her feet. She can see how bad this is all about to look.

"You disappeared for nearly six months, only popping up again when you showed up on a security camera in Branson," Henriksen points to a black and white photo of her getting into a stolen Mazda. "Driving away from a double murder with some skinny, gangly looking guy that we've been able to identify as Garth Fitzgerald the Third."

One of her first cases early on in her career. She remembers that one. It was a pair of ghouls working together. She and Garth went out, Garth leading the hunt as she was still green, and they didn't have time to clean up their mess before the police would had shown up. It wasn't a good situation. It wasn't clean.

"Two dead, shot in the head _point blank_," Henriksen explains. "You left no other clues, not a print, not a hair, nothing. All I had to go by was this picture of a seventeen year old killer and her new blood buddy."

"That…" she sighs. "If you're charging me with something I want to know now."

"Oh, sweetheart," he shakes his head. "I've been dying to break this all down in front of you for decades. You're not taking this away from me." He smiles and it makes her shiver with fear once more for what this all means for her. "So I've been following your case. Always a step behind you. You're good. A pile of aliases, a parking lot full of stolen and ditched cars, a heap of dead bodies, some bad dudes and some good, honest, hardworking civilians… and I never could quite get the proof I needed to nail you down. You had no motives, you had no patterns. Every kill was random… some just straight stabbings and shootings while others were… let's just call it messy. And the satanic shit you left behind now and then? Well, you really threw me off there. Thought you were in a cult for a while, possibly even the leader. But no. That didn't fit."

He slide a new picture across the table to her. When she looks down she gasps and can't breathe. The dead man in the picture. She knew he disappeared, ditched the hunting life. She never assumed he was dead. She just figured he was done with it all and he hopefully settled down with his 'lady' for good years ago.

"Garth," she sobs his name and presses a hand over her mouth. She cries with how devastated she is with this. Her long time hunting partner and close friend for years is dead, throat gouged. He bled out alone.

"The locals assumed it was an animal attack because of how vicious it was… but I knew better," Henriksen smirks. "So I started searching and you will never guess what I found out. Your car was spotted a town over the very next day at a Gas N' Sip. You were filling up the tank and headed east in that shit car your dead husband used to drive. What a coincidence, hm?"

It really, honestly was a coincidence. That was the trip she took with Dean to go see Bobby when he needed to pick up spare parts for the car he refurbished for her.

"I wasn't… I had no idea," she sobs out, the death of Garth hitting too hard. "Oh my god."

"See, if I didn't know better… I'd almost believe you."

"I didn't do it!" Lizzy yells at him. "I was… my son and I were driving through on our way to visit…." She pauses. She won't give up Bobby. Right now it seems that Henriksen might not know anything about him so she doesn't help him out. "Mary Winchester's grave. She was Dean's grandmother and he never met her."

"So here's what I got on you," Henriksen starts, ready to drop the hammer. "You killed your family, went off map, and coerced this Garth guy to join you. You spend years on the road together killing and one day you split. That I got no clue about, maybe a lover's quarrel, but soon enough you find another gullible dude that was just cute enough and just dumb enough to listen to you."

He pushes the picture of Dean Winchester Senior further towards her and it makes her cry hard.

"Now, I don't know how you did it but this guy was in from the jump," Henriksen says to her. "He jumped into your life faster than a fifteen year old coming at a whore house. I mean, within days he quit his job, disappeared from the world, and only popped up now and then on surveillance right next to you… until he disappeared for good. When you killed him."

"No!" Lizzy yells immediately.

"Killed him and buried him… only god knows where. I never could find him."

"I loved him!" she screams and stands up out of her seat, ready to launch herself across the table at him when she can't take this anymore.

"And everyone you love ends up bloody and dead! I call that a pattern, Lizzy," Henriksen also stands up.

"I call it bullshit!" she shouts, marching around the table and shoving Henriksen in the chest. He trips over the chair he's been sitting in and he falls to the floor.

"Guards!" he calls out and two men rush into the room with the commotion. Lizzy's tackled as she tries to go after Henriksen, her blind rage over being accused of killing the love of her life along with her family and friends pushing her past the tipping point.

"Fuck you!" Lizzy yells out hard as the two men grab her. They quickly get her on her stomach as she's cuffed behind her back. "I didn't do it! I didn't do any of it!" She starts to collapse in sobs. "I didn't do it. I love him…."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

She's been sitting there, cuffed to the table with bruised arms for over an hour. They left her there to cool off as Henriksen walked casually out of the room, smug smirk in place.

The entire time the picture of Dean looks at her tauntingly. She lost him so long ago but it always feels new and fresh when she sees him. And that picture? He's smiling, happy… he's just as handsome as the day they met and it's killing her.

When the door to the interview room opens Henriksen walks back in.

"I want a lawyer." Lizzy eyes him hard. She's pissed and devastated. She's had every loss in her life rehashed, every wound reopened, and she wants a lawyer just for the sheer reason of getting a break from all this.

"Sure, who's you're lawyer? I'll call him," Henriksen smiles wide, already knowing the answer.

Lizzy quickly tumbles into sobs. Sam. Sam is her lawyer. Sam _was_ her lawyer.

"We'll find you a new one in a few minutes," Henriksen tells her, unable to stop his own glee after years of hard work putting this case together. He sits down across from her again. "I'm gonna explain this all to you, then I'll tell you the charges, and then I'll lock your ass up until your day to fry comes. How's that sound?"

"Where's my son?" Lizzy asks again, over the rest of it and ready to find her boy.

"Again, we'll get to that," he says with narrowed eyes. "After you killed Dean you convinced his brother that you didn't do it. Sam believed you, thinking you'd been in love and that Dean's own wife would never kill him, and you move in together. You have Dean's kid, a spitting image of the sucker himself, and you raise him right by all accounts. I start to think I lost this one. You stopped being a killer and became a real mother, a real human… or so I thought."

Keeping her mouth shut, Lizzy just shakes her head no.

"You raised that little hellion to be just as cold blooded as you. You took him on an old fashion family road trip… and killed your former partner-in-crime together."

"No," she keeps shaking her head, defeated.

"That was just practice, though. Right? Killing Mister Fitzgerald together was just practice for the big day. That day the two of you would kill Sam Winchester in his home and Dean would run off with his wife Ruby, kidnapping her."

Lizzy's face drops as she looks at him, the crying done when the icy fear takes over. "Dean ran off with Ruby?" She couldn't have heard that right.

"Like you didn't know," Henriksen just laughs as he places a plastic evidence bag onto the table, in it a bloody knife. Her knife. From her own kitchen. "Look familiar?"

She sits up taller. The handle. It's wooden. It's from the set Sam bought for the house when he was still living there years ago. He told her she needed something decent to cook with. She said she didn't. He bought it for her anyways because he was always nice a guy… at least before Ruby.

"Only your prints on it. Found it sticking out of Sam's chest."

This is completely impossible. "That's impossible. I was... at school. I was teaching all day, right up until you guys came to get me. It couldn't have been me."

"Where were you during your lunch break?"

Shit. "I… ran errands." She really did.

"Convenient."

"Where's my son?" Lizzy tries again.

"Somewhere between hell and gone by now, with his aunt in tow… if she's still alive, that is."

"That bitch is totally alive," Lizzy mutter, anger boiling.

"How would you know that, Lizzy?" Henriksen says with glee, her words practically confessing that she had something to do with it.

She shuts her mouth right there.

"Elizabeth Winchester, you are under arrest for the murder of Samuel Winchester as well as…."

As Henriksen reads her her rights along with a laundry list of charges and pulls her to her feet, Lizzy realizes just how screwed she is. And so is her son.

She has to get out of here. And she has to find Dean.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Sitting in a cell, waiting for her one phone call and a lawyer, Lizzy knows she's screwing her life over with the next move she plans to make. But she's desperate and her son probably needs her.

Ruby. That bitch. She's tied into this, Lizzy knows it. And she'll pay for what she's done.

Once the guard is definitely not looking, Lizzy quickly pulls a bobby pin out of her hair. Her bangs fall down into her face as she opens the pin and gets to work. The cuffs are unlocked in seconds flat. Some things a former hunter just doesn't forget.

"Like riding a bike," Lizzy says quietly to herself as she gets up, her face stone set and focused.

The guard on duty is sitting there with his back against the barred wall of the cell she's in. Thinking quickly, Lizzy removes a heeled ankle boot and takes it off. Holding one end of a shoelace, she creeps up to the bars. She slips her boot through the bars and tosses it around the neck of the guard.

Catching the boot with her free hand, Lizzy frantically pulls hard as the lace wraps around his neck. She keeps pressure, the guard panicking and flailing as he tries desperately to loosen the lace but he can't. It's too tight.

When his body goes limp Lizzy lets go immediately. Her aim wasn't to kill the man, just get him out of her way for a moment. Pulling her boot back through the bars, Lizzy pops it back onto her foot quickly before kneeling to the floor. She pulls the keys from the guard's belt through the bars.

Within minutes Lizzy has her cell door open and she's walking down the cement brick walls of the station. She can hear Henriksen's voice on the phone, coordinating transport for her to a maximum security facility because she's a flight risk. He in fact does know her well.

She back tracks. Heading the opposite way, Lizzy decides to try her luck and pray that there's a back exit. When she follows a couple illuminated emergency signs she finds a way out. The door is adorned with a sign: _Emergency Exit Only. Alarm Will Sound If Opened._

She needs scissors. Now.

She ducks into an empty office off to the side of the hallway she's currently in. Rummaging through, she finds a letter opener but no scissors. Then she spies the tool box in the corner of the room.

Wire cutters in hand, Lizzy slinks back to the back door. She easily cuts the wires, disarming the door, and is about to go when she hears it.

"Freeze right there."

She does.

"Turn around."

She does. Lizzy comes face to face with a young police officer, couldn't be older than twenty-two. His hands are shaking as he has his gun aimed at her.

"Don't do this," Lizzy says calmly, not really all that threatened by him.

"I would say the same to you. On the ground." His voice cracks ever so slightly.

She takes a deep breath. Thank god he's scared. His voice is low at best. She doesn't have much time but he's buying her more with his fear.

"Kiddo, trust me," Lizzy says, hands out to show she means no harm if she can help it. "Just turn your back. Let it go. It'll hurt way less."

"Listen lady…."

She grabs his wrists and yanks. She pulls his arms past her to the side and punches him square in the face with her right fist. She has lost a step over time she finds out as he groans with pain instead of blacks out. "Damn it," she laments, cocking her fist again and hitting him once more. This time he crumbles to the ground. He's out cold.

"My life is fucking over," she complains as she can already see she can no longer ever be a regular member of society after this. She knocked out a cop. She's wanted for multiple homicides and god knows what else. And she's going on the lam.

The past never stays in the past. She should have known.

Lizzy grabs everything she can off of the young cop. She takes his Glock, three extra clips, his pepper spray, and his baton. She then swipes a reusable bag from a bunch hanging on a hook, all promoting Palo Alto to recycle, and stuffs the items in.

And then, she's gone.

* * *

"Alright, we can camp here for a few days," Ruby tells him as she plops her bag down on the dusty floor of the rental cabin in the middle of nowhere, Montana.

"This place hasn't seen people in years," Dean comments, walking in behind her and dropping a duffle bag on the floor. A few stolen guns from a Kmart, some salt and iron from Home Depot, and some texts from his own house that they stopped at quickly before leaving. Oh, and some basic clothing and toiletries of his own. That's all they had.

"Exactly," she smiles at him. "Who will know we're here?"

Dean looks around the room. An old ice box, bare bones everything, faded curtains… this place is barely livable as it is.

"How long?" Dean sighs.

"How long what?" she wonders, taking the bag from his shoulder.

"How long are we staying in hiding like this?" Dean wonders.

She just laughs at him as she plops the duffle bag on the tiny kitchen table and unzips it. "How's forever sound." She starts to rummage through the contents while laughing lightly to herself.

Forever? He's confused. "What are doing?" Dean has to ask her.

"We're running." It's a simple answer.

"And then what?" Dean keeps pushing her, walking her way a little closer. "I mean, Uncle Sam's dead. I fucking killed him. I need… I need to talk to mom…."

"Yeah, that's out of the question," she laughs as she searches.

"What!?" Dean gets a shot in the chest at the idea.

"Dean, you're done with her," Ruby smiles warmly and looks at him. "You don't have to be controlled by her anymore. It's over."

"But…" he shakes his head, the idea far more horrifying that he was ready for. "She's my mom."

"So?" she huffs a laugh.

"She's my family," he tells her, nearly choked up. "She's the only family I got left…."

"No, she isn't," Ruby suddenly gets sincere. She drops what she's doing and brings her hands to his shoulders. "You have me. _I'm_ your family, Dean. You. Me. Together." She grins wide. "You saved me from that monster I was with. And… I love you. You're all I need. We will be fine."

His head is swimming. He needs a moment.

"I'm gonna take a drive," Dean says to her.

"Don't go far, hm?" she softly reminds him. She kisses his lips once with sweetness.

Dean smiles at her, so thankful that he has her right now. After what he did and how, and not knowing what it all actually means, he's scared. And he knows he would have been in jail by now if not for her quick thinking.

But his mother must be so scared by now. Two days after it happened, after he ended his own uncle's life, and he's been gone without a word.

The second Dean's out of the cabin and behind the wheel of their stolen car, he sighs. Yes, he and his mother were at odds as of late, but the idea of leaving her forever, never speaking another word to the one woman that's always been there for him? He's terrified suddenly. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe all along he just needed her and he's been a total jerk to her.

Pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, Dean looks down at it. He sighs again. This is wrong. Yes, everything is totally wrong but… most of all, he ditched his mother. He still does love her. She's still somehow deeply attached to him… and he hates it, but he is to her too.

Knowing he will regret it and her line might even be tapped at this point, he needs her to know she's ok. Hell, this may be the last time he ever hears her voice. He needs this.

On autopilot, Dean makes a terrible decision. He dials his mother's number.

It only rings twice.

_Dean! Where the hell are you!?_

He breathes out heavily and smiles a little. "Hey, mom."

_What did you do!?_

"I… I don't know," he gets choked up right away when he hears her anger. "I don't have a clue. It just happened and… I don't know. I'm… I'm scared, mom."

He's ready for her to comfort him as usual when he's upset. He doesn't get that.

_You should be, you monster!_

"What?" Dean asks with confusion when she yells such nasty words at him.

_You horrible, piece of shit monster. I know what you did. I know all about it. The angel DNA and Hell's corruption… it's made you inhuman!_

"Hell corruption!?"

_I took you to Hell with me. I was pregnant when I went and it ruined you. It made you hateful and evil and… I should never have had you! I shouldn't have gone through with it!_

"Mom!" Dean's horrified by her words.

_Don't call me that. You're not my son. Not anymore. After what you did… I want nothing to do with you. Wherever you are… stay there. I never want to see you again._

The line goes dead.

He's stunned. Dean sits there dumbfounded with his phone in his hand. She cut him off. She's done with him. His own mother has left him for good.

That fire deep in him flares up again. He gets irrationally angry, something he's found is easier and easier to do ever since unleashing his powers on Sam. Anger is his gateway, he already knows that, and his mother made it boil once more.

Screw a drive. He doesn't need one.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Ruby watches from the window as Dean gets back out of the car with his phone in hand. He screams with fury as he throws his phone into the nearest thick tree with all of his might, the item shattering into pieces.

It's so easy to manipulate him. He's young, impressionable, and ready to be formed into the leader she knows he can be. Sam was older, set in his ways. She got to him too late. She realized she wasted far too much time on him and decided to focus on the only alternative there was.

Dean's ready. He's accessed his gift that has been bestowed upon him by his mother's angelic lineage combined with Hell's impression it left on him. He's the perfect mix of heavenly power and evil's corruption. He's perfect. He's beautiful.

Knowing that hearing his mother's voice would have ended everything Ruby's been working so hard for by changing the boy's mind, she made a decision to deceive him a little more. He's young. He'd fall for it. So, she intercepted his call, made it sound like his mother is cutting him off and hates him now, and made sure Dean was ready to cut ties with her also.

Well, that and she couldn't risk Lizzy informing her son that she's been framed for Sam's murder. Ruby wants that kept quiet. Dean might figure out too much if he knew his mother was going down for Sam's death and he'd end their relationship immediately.

Watching him head back into the cabin she grins, looking down at the old, weathered journal in her hands that she found in Lizzy's bedroom before they left. She has the key to everything right there. All that Lizzy's seen, all that Dean is, their story, their knowledge… all at her fingertips.

There isn't another demon better than her out there.

"Ruby," Dean calls her name as he opens the door to the cabin.

She shoves the journal into her own bag. "Dean?"

He nods. He's made his decision. "I'm in. Whatever we need to do… I'm with you."

She grins so wide she thinks her cheeks with break. "That's my boy." She runs to him and jumps on him, arms around his neck, and planting a massive kiss on his lips. "I love you, Dean."

"Love you too, Ruby."

* * *

**Ten Months Later**

"Looks like he was seen in Baltimore yesterday," Bobby tells her over the phone.

"Baltimore!?" Lizzy asks, excitement in her tone as she scrambles to pack up her motel room immediately. She has papers tacked up with maps all over the wall. She pulls them all down and stacks them up. "Why are they in Baltimore?"

"Don't know… but omens in the area don't look none too good," Bobby tells her. "Something's going down out that way. I don't know what but it's not good."

"Shit," Lizzy says, panicking. "I'm in Ohio. It'll take a day but I can be in Baltimore by tomorrow night."

"I would head towards a town called Ilchester instead," he suggests. "There's a convent there, been freak electrical storms all around the town and specifically that building. Plus, it's the place of a nun massacre back in the seventies."

"What!?" Lizzy asks, packing her wall up, only pausing at a picture of her son in a hat and sunglasses caught on a traffic cam as he ran a red light a week ago in Cleveland. She sighs with a heavy heart.

"Yeah, a priest killed a whole convent of nuns. He later claimed he was possessed by a demon named Azazel."

She pauses. "Yellow Eyes?"

"Sounds like."

"Fuck."

"I know."

"It's all tied together," she closes her eyes, sitting into a chair at her kitchenette table when the weight of it all hits her. Everything, starting from Sam's demon blood, is connected.

"I got a good feeling."

She tries to hold in the sob but it squeaks out. "He's gonna be there, isn't he?"

"Willing to bet the house on it," Bobby sadly responds. "You sure you can handle this, Lizzy?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"You need me to come out there?"

"Yeah," she huffs a sad laugh. "But I don't have time to wait for you to arrive."

She can hear Bobby sigh heavily on the other end. "I wish I could help you, kiddo."

"Me too."

"But he needs you, hon."

"I know that," she sniffles. "But he's so far gone already. What if he won't listen? What if… he's totally gone?"

"You just do your best," Bobby reminds her. "That boy has always loved you more than anything, mom. You two are still connected…."

"He told me to let him go," Lizzy reminds him. "Bobby, he called me two days after he killed Sam and left a voice mail saying to leave him alone and he didn't need me anymore."

"And what does that actually mean to you?" Bobby knowingly pushes her.

Lizzy smiles slightly to herself. Almost a year on the road, running from Henriksen and the cops, never stopping, never contacting anyone except Bobby on burner phones… all because in her heart somewhere deep she knows it's not to save the world from whatever it is Ruby has cooking up with her son. It's because of one thing. "He needs me."

"He absolutely does. Even if he don't know it," Bobby tells her. "You pack your ass up quick and get to Ilchester. I'll text you the address as soon as we hang up."

"Ok," she nods, rushing around the room again as she shoves everything in her duffle.

"You go get our boy back, you hear?" Bobby says, his voice so fake with excitement that she cringes. But she knows he means well.

"I'll get him, Bobby," she tells him with confidence she doesn't quite have. She's too scared to be that confident. "Thank you for your help."

"Any time."

"Bobby!" she calls out to catch him before he hangs up.

"Yeah?"

"I just… I love you," Lizzy reminds him, not knowing how her next 48 hours are going to go. "I do. Thank you for everything."

"Don't get all weepy on me. No time. Git."

"Going," she promises and hangs up. She quickly pushes her phone down into her back pocket and scrambles to pack. She needs to move fast.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

The corner of Dean's mouth quirks up as he looks at the ancient demon as she's pinned to the old concrete alter with just his mind. They found Lilith. It took months of training and tracking but they found her. Ruby told him this was the bitch that wanted to be the next big leader and she'd be after him. So… he got to her first.

"I've been waiting for this... for a very long time." His ego is inflated, his abilities sharp… this is it. Over the time on the road with Ruby he's become bloodthirsty, wanting to kill off all the evil scum that wanted his ass. And if he could inflict pain on them, excessive pain, then bonus for him.

"Then give me your best shot," Lilith tells him, her voice confident that he can't do it.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment as he lifts his hand, palm out, in her direction. Concentrate, get angry, and let it flow through him. Just like Ruby taught him.

When he lifts his eyelids slowly he already knows they're glowing with deep, dark, navy blue light. He can feel his usual green eyes disappear behind the blanket of dark, his angelic aura combining with that of the demonic imprint left on him after years in Hell.

Lilith lights up from within, a dark light bursting through her skin as she shouts out in sheer pain.

"It's working," Ruby smiles wide as she stands next to Dean, the young man doing everything she wanted him to do.

_Dean!_

They all hear it. A voice from the other side of the closed doors of the basement chapel in the convent.

Dean stops what he's doing, Lilith gasping the second she has a break in the torture. He turns towards the old, splintering doors as his eyes clear back to green.

There's banging on the door now, something heavy and hard hitting the wood.

_Dean! Stop!_

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Dean!" Lizzy shouts again, knowing he's in there. She heard his voice. She knows what he's doing. He's about to open Hell's Cage and she doubts he even knows it.

With another couple swings of the heavy, floor-standing metal candle holder, she screams primal and with fear.

"Dean! Please! Don't do it!"

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

_Dean! Listen to me!_

With his head a mangled mess of the demon blood he drank combined with the use of his powers, her voice is muffled and far off… but he heard it.

"Mom?" Dean quietly asks, recognizing the voice even if it's been so long since he's last heard it.

"What are you waiting for?!" Ruby's voice cuts through his mother's. He looks down at her, confused as his heart pull towards the sound of his panicked mom. "Now! Dean, now! This is it!"

He hears laughing. Patronizing laughing. Dean snaps his eyes back onto the source with a scowl.

"You turned yourself into a freak. A monster," Lilith pokes at him while still pinned. "And now you're not gonna bite? I'm sorry, but that is honestly adorable."

Dean drowns all other sounds out. Ruby's shouts, his mother's screams for him to stop, and focuses in on Lilith. His hand comes up again, palm out, as his eyes light up all over again. He catches the spark of fear in Lilith's expression right before he unleashes on her again, this time with renewed vengeance.

Lilith starts to convulse with the power expended on her. Her gasps quicken, her form shakes, and she screams out in agony. The desperation she feels, the pain and torture, it fuels Dean. It makes him proud, makes his hungry for more. He doesn't even lose a step, doesn't weaken, as he watches a final burst of light explode from within her.

Lilith's body goes still as she slumps onto her side on the marble floor. When it's clear she's dead, Dean straightens up and sighs with a grin, having accomplished what he's worked for for so long.

"Well," Dean huffs and looks at Ruby, her eyes wide with excitement. "Like to see another demon come after me once word gets around that I pulled that off."

Ruby sighs with love as he looks up at the tall young man next to her. "You did it."

"Damn fucking straight I did," Dean gloats a little.

The banging on the door resumes after a pause, and Dean's eyes slide to it.

_Dean, please! Let me in!_

Dean closes his eyes and hangs his head. "How the hell did she find us?"

"Doesn't matter," Ruby tells him and when he glances at her he sees her eyes fixed on the marble floor.

Taking a look himself he watches as the blood pouring from Lilith's dead body making a path of its own. It starts to circle around and Dean knows this isn't right.

"What… the hell?" Dean wonders, walking around it a bit, ignoring his mom's cries to him as he watches the impossible happen.

"I can't believe it," Ruby awes with a grin.

"Ruby, what's going on?"

"You did it," Ruby looks up to him with elation. "I mean, it was a little touchy when your mom showed up, but... you did it."

"What?" he wonders, anxiety fully setting in. This isn't right. "What… what did I do?"

"You opened the door," she explains easily enough, eyes glued to the blood still swirling on the ground. "And now he's free at last. He's free at last!"

"Who's free?" he questions, completely confused.

"My Father," she smiles wide.

"No… no," Dean denies quickly, taking a step back from her. "_Lucifer_?"

She doesn't answer but that only confirms that he's right.

"No," he once more refuses. "All I did was kill Lilith because she dragged my mom and me to Hell back in the day…."

"And it is written," she quotes to him, standing a little too close to him for comfort in the moment. "That the first demon shall be the last seal."

His face drops.

"And you bust her open… now guess who's coming to dinner."

Heart pounding, sweat pouring, Dean backs away from the blood circle, growing quickly. He knots his hands into his hair as he panics. "Oh, my god."

"Guess again," she jokes, the pounding on the door still going hard. Lizzy won't give up out there.

_Dean! _

Lizzy's voice is heard again and Dean looks to the door. He needs her. She knows about this shit. He's in too deep. He royally fucked up.

Before he can even take a step towards the door Ruby grabs his face and plants a hard kiss on his lips. He pushes her away.

"What the hell, Ruby!?" Dean shouts at her. "What's happening!?"

She grins, elated. "You don't even know how hard this was! All the demons out for my head. No one knew. I was the best of those sons of bitches!"

"What sons of bitches!?" Dean shouts at her.

"Every demon that tried to make this happen all failed… except for me!" she tells him, so overjoyed she's losing her mind. "The most loyal! None of them know, only Lilith!"

Dean's devastated face looks at her. "You… used me?" He can't wrap his head around it. "You told me… you and me. You loved me…."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're a little angry right now, but, I mean, come on, Dean! Even you have to admit… I'm, I'm awesome!"

"You bitch," Dean fires out when he's seeing it for what it all is. He was tricked. From the moment he was lured into her bed for the first time she was planning this whole thing out. "You lying bitch!" He pushes his hands out at her and tries his best to psychically kill her, not unlike he just did with Lilith, but he can't. Instead he crumbles to the floor in pain with the effort.

"Don't hurt yourself, Dean."

"What's… wrong with me?"

"You shot your payload on the boss," Ruby explains. "You can't get it up again that quickly… no matter how young you are."

"The demon blood drinking... the lies. The… you got me to kill Uncle Sam..."

Ruby's face softens for the man she's been working with for years. He's a bit of a soft spot deep down for her now. Kneeling down in front of him, she hold his jaw gently.

"You needed to kill him, Dean," she explains. "If you didn't you would never have come with me."

"You… evil bitch…." His voice is choked with fear and regret as the picture comes together. Dean's eyes well up and he looks away. She pulls his face back to her.

"I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path every time. I know it's hard to see it now... but this is a miracle. So long coming. Everything Azazel did, and Lilith did. Just to get you here. And you were the only one who could do it."

"Why?" he has to wonder. "W-why me?

"It was supposed to be Sam," she explains. "He was the one but by the time I found him… I couldn't guide him. He wasn't impressionable anymore. He was too old. But you… you were perfect. You had just enough Hell in you to make you… beautiful for him."

"For who!?" Dean freaks out, eyes spilling over silently.

"Lucifer. You set him free. And he's gonna be grateful. He's gonna repay you in ways that you can't even imagine…."

The door finally gives under Lizzy's efforts. They both look to watch the older woman with gray roots and a scowl march swiftly towards them, murder in her eyes.

"You're too late," Ruby tells her as she stands up, unafraid.

"I don't fucking care," Lizzy grits out, pulling her special knife she never let go of even in retirement from the leather sheath at her side. She twirls it once as she approaches.

Dean sees this and stands quickly, grabbing Rudy's upper arms from behind her. He keeps her still as Lizzy plunges the knife deeply into her gut, all while staring her in the eye.

"I'll see you in hell, you fucking bitch," she growls with utter ire, turning the knife.

Orange flashes busting inside of her and Ruby goes limp. Dean shoves her to the side of him, her body heaped on the floor.

For the first time since he fought with her the morning he killed Sam, Dean looks right as his mother. His eyes are full of tears, the remorse and the pain of letting her down absolutely devastating him. "Mom… I, I'm sorry."

The blood pouring out of Lilith has finished making a pattern on the floor. A bright white light shoots up from the central point of the pattern and the convent begins to tremble, the air swirling with its force.

"I know, sweetie, but we gotta go," she tells him, knowing what's happening. She didn't get to him in time. He let Lucifer free.

She grabs his wrist and runs for the door, dragging her son behind her. If it weren't for the depths of her fright she might be thankful just to be in the same room as him again.

The wooden double doors slam shut sharply, trapping them in. They pound their fists on it, shove it, kick it, but they don't budge.

Dean turns his back to the door and watches as the room rapidly fills with white light. "Mom..." he grabs her shoulder hard and she turns around, watching also. "He's coming."

Another flash of white, brighter than the rest, the explosion shakes the entire old structure. They're blown backwards, through the wall, and tumble onto their backs.

Everything goes quiet around them once the explosion ends.

Groggily, Dean groans when he can feel the pain in his entire body. He rolls to his side and looks for his mother.

"Mom?" he asks quietly, the use of his voice creating a sharp ache in his side. He doesn't bother looking. He needs to find his mom. "Mom!?"

"Mm," he just hears her hurt tone as it groans similarly to him. A busted, broken wooden table moves a few inches. "Dean?"

"Mom!" Dean calls out, unable to stand. He slide on his side over to her, dragging what he knows has to be a broken leg behind him. "Mom! Hang on!"

He hears her make more pained noises as she tried to move. When he gets there he uses what's left of his strength to pull the heavy tabletop off of her. Under it, when he gets a clear view of her, is a sight he never wanted to see.

"Dean?" she says quietly, reaching a hand out to him. It's covered in streaks of blood. When he looks down at her stomach she has a large, splintered-sharp piece of wood sticking out of her gut.

"Uh… oh god… mom," he says to her reaching to pull her from the rubble. When he does get her free he can see the bone sticking out of her leg, the odd angle of her opposite elbow, and the impossible to survive injury to her torso. He pulls her close, arms around her form as he settles her into his lap on her back. He ignores all of his own pain for the time being, only concerned with her. "Mom, I'm so sorry…."

"It's fine," she very weakly tells him, he one good arm coming up so she can touch his cheek. "I found you."

"Yeah," he nods as he lets tears makes clean streaks down his dirty, bloodied cheeks. "I always knew you would sooner or later."

"Best… hunter there is," she struggles through with a weak smile on her face. "Missed you."

Dean looks away from her, having a very hard time seeing her like this. "I killed Uncle Sam."

"I know," Lizzy tells him, once more touching his cheek.

"You should hate me," Dean tells her.

"Don't."

"I do. I hate me."

"You… shouldn't," she says. "Not your fault… not you…."

"Well isn't this just touching," they hear a voice says, both look up and see Ruby's form walking towards them, the swagger confident and nothing like Ruby's. "Touching final moment between son and mother. Very sweet. Though I can think of several better things to find the second I get free."

Dean's face drops, cold rush through his heart. "Lucifer?"

"And you must be my savior," he smiles with Ruby's face. "Dean, I owe you… everything."

"I don't want anything from you."

"I'm sure you want something," Lucifer knows to be true. He walks closer, kneeling Ruby's form down to their level. Dean tries to scramble back, to put more space between the Lucifer and his mother but his ankle is grabbed, stopping him with the fallen angel's full force.

"Whatever you do… this is my fault," Dean nearly begs of the devil. "I… did all this. I let you out. You let her go and… you can kill me instead."

"Kill you!?" Ruby's voice shocks out. "Why would I ever do that? I need you."

"Why?" Dean asks, his mother's form going ridged where she lays across his lap.

"Sweetheart… no," she shakes her head, already knowing how this will play out. He's a Winchester at heart and that means giving everything, including yourself, to help family out. It's in him whether he knows it or not.

"You're my one… my soulmate," Lucifer tell him. "I need you."

"I'm… no way…."

"It's true," Lucifer keeps going. "Ruby's vessel is already melting away in here. She can't handle all this, but you? You're perfect. Maybe more perfect than Sam ever was. You have angel… I'm angel. You have Hell… I've lived there for years. You drank blood… I need blood. You've my perfect vessel, Dean."

He starts to get it as Lizzy protests it all.

"Dean, no," she tells him, fading fast with blood loss. "Don't… just leave…."

"I'll follow you," Lucifer tells him. "I won't hurt you. I won't ever lie to you. But I'll always be there. I'll always find you. And, from the looks of it, you won't have your mother around to help you."

Dean looks down. Lizzy's face is sheet white and her eyes lidded. She looks awful. She's dying.

"Hey, I'll sweeten the pot for you," Lucifer adds it. "I never do this… in fact I hate doing this… but I'll save her."

Dean's eyes snap onto Satan's, hope sparking in them. "You'll save her life?"

"Like nothing ever happened," he promises. "All you have to do is say yes and she's good as new."

"Dean, please… don't," Lizzy begs without emphasis, the struggle just to speak hard enough. "Bad… stuff…."

"You can't die because of me," Dean tells her, leaning down and kissing her cheek. "I'll always love you, mom."

"Dean…."

"Yes," Dean says to Lucifer with certainty. "Now save her."

Ruby's face splits into a wide smile. The blinding white light returns and in a flash it's over.

Ruby's body is once more lifeless on the floor. Dean's arms stretch as Lucifer learns his new body. He leans his head side to side to crack it. He then looks down at Lizzy's form in his new lap.

"You did well, Elizabeth," he tells her, yanking the wooden piece form her stomach with one easy tug. He tosses it aside and smiles down at her with Dean's lips. "Very well. You were everything my Father wanted and more… with a few slip ups here and there that worked out in my favor. So… thank you."

Pressing two fingers to her forehead, he heals her in seconds. Every bone reset and patched, her wounds closed, she's back to normal.

When she's back, wits and all, Lizzy realizes she's no longer leaning onto her son. Her son is gone.

"Shit," she scrambles off of Lucifer and away from him, standing up quickly. She pulls the demon blade from Ruby's dead body and points it at Lucifer.

"That won't do anything," he promises. "I'm not a demon."

She lowers her hand. "Give him back."

Dean's face smiles with pity. "You know I can't."

She swallows hard. "Please…."

"We're not having this conversation. I saved you because of all you've done for me." He runs his hands down Dean's chest. "He's perfect. Better than Sam would have been. I owe you the world."

"All I want is my son."

"That's the one thing I can't give you," Lucifer tells her and steps closer. Lizzy steps back, finding the hard, stone wall at her back. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Her face wrinkles. "Take me instead. Let him go."

"You won't work and you know that," Lucifer reminds her, walking up to her. He places a hand on her shoulder, meaning to comfort but instead making her shake. "He loves you. I can feel it. And he thinks you don't anymore after all he's done."

She shakes her head violently. "He's my whole life," she cries hard. "I love him more than anything. I will always love my son."

Lucifer grins wide to hear it. With Dean's green eyes, just like his father's, trained on her, he ducks down and kisses her cheek sweetly. "Goodbye, mom."

And he's gone.

Lizzy's alone in the big, crumbling convent. She failed again. She lost him for good. Lucifer is free and he will take down the whole world with her son's hands.

She needs to stop him.

* * *

**Five Months Later**

"Where is he!?" Lizzy shouts at the frail looking man that is more powerful than she could ever truly understand. As he sits there, all black clothing, long black coat on, and black walking stick at his side, his face shows no emotion.

"You seem to be under the impression that I was going to tell you anything you needed to know," he tells her. "However, I think you underestimated my drive to tell you anything at all."

She shakes in her combat boots as she stares at him. Pestilence, War, Famine… she dealt with them all with minimal shake up. But Death, now Death is a horseman of a different color. He's stronger. He's capable of killing even God and she's in his presence demanding things.

Love of family will make one do the most death defying things.

"Lucifer raised you, didn't he?" Lizzy asks him, the summoning spell Bobby was able to dig up for her still laid out on his desk in the Singer's study. She sent Karen and Bobby away for this, both begrudgingly leaving after an all-out screaming match. She won. She will always win if she's going to save her boy.

"He did," Death answers. "Raised is such a misleading word. He… brought me to the Earth on the visual plane of existence."

"The point is that he brought you about," she simplifies it. "And, word on the demon streets is, he's got you on a leash."

Death sighs heavily, his pride absolutely crushed with this. "Yes, God's petulant son prone to temper tantrums has found the way to tie me to him," he answers, lifting his wrists. The flash of a tether around them becomes temporary visible. "Seems he feels he's entitled to all of God's best toys. I, for one, am offended that he thinks I am a mere toy."

"Trust me, I do not underestimate you," Lizzy points out, lifting a shaking hand for him to see the tremors. "I know what a massive display of disrespect it is to summon you here. I apologize for doing that but I am… desperate."

"Yes, I know," he stands up, leaning into his cane a bit. "The Great Elizabeth that God prophesized way back before he made you humans in the first place." He walks closer to her. "I know about you. I know about what has happened. I know that it is Dean Winchester the Second that is being used by Lucifer."

"So, you know how desperate I am to stop him."

"You cannot save your son, Elizabeth," Death makes sure she understands. "What Lucifer has done with him, his hands, his mind… there would never be any recovery from that. You might as well assume him dead by all standard."

She swallows hard.

"I apologize for what that Heavenly brat has done to your child."

She stops her crying before it starts, needing to get this done. "I know I can't save him. I know that. But Dean let Lucifer out. And I need to put him back in. Word is, to do that… I need these."

She pulls three rings out of her pocket and takes Death's hand, placing them in his palm. Death observes them for a moment, nodding.

"You do realize these belong to my brothers, yes?" Death asks her, hard eyes on her.

"Yes," she gets very nervous once more. "If it helps, Pestilence and War are still alive. War's just down a finger."

He stares at her a moment more. "I never really liked Famine, truthfully. He seemed… a touch ostentatious to me."

She just nods in agreement.

"You cannot kill Lucifer," Death lets her know. "That cannot be done by anyone other than myself… and while leashed by the Morning Star I cannot kill the Morning Star."

"He can't be stopped then?" Lizzy's hopes begin to wane.

"Killed, no," he clarifies, placing the rings deliberately on the table in the Singer's kitchen. "Stopped, possibly."

Lizzy watches Death take his ring off his finger and place it also on the table. Death's, War's, and Famine's rings all surround Pestilence's. As Death slides his ring towards the middle, the four connect all together like magical magnetism.

"What's that about?" Lizzy has to ask, watching.

"It's the key to your issue and mine," Death tells her, picking up the connected rings. He places it in her hand much like she just did for him. "It's the key to the Cage."

"The Cage?" she asks, confused.

"Your son let Lucifer out of it… and I will teach you how to put him right back in…."

It look weeks of searching, days of torturing demons for information, and hours of driving but here she is.

Lucifer must have known she was coming. He had to have. He wouldn't be standing there watching her pull up in the Impala that he ditched in Ilchester with a bright smile on his face if he didn't.

She just has to pray that he knows nothing of the key to the Cage in her pocket.

"Hey!" she yells out brightly as she gets out of the classic car, standing by the open door as she looks right at the face of her one and only child. His expression is unfamiliar, making him look like a stranger. It makes her stomach churn.

"What are you doing here, Elizabeth?" he asks, stepping away from the bench he had been sitting in smack in the middle of a wide open park. It's sunny, cheerful, everything is green. It's a true contrast to what is actually happening.

"I came to chat with my son," Lizzy tells him, trying to be casual and confident. "The hell are you doing here at a park?"

He cocks his head to the side, a move never once done by Dean, and narrows his eyes at her. "I would be insane if I didn't take the moment to enjoy this… beautiful world. My Father's one true, perfect creation."

"Thought that was us?" she challenges.

"That's what _He_ thought. Not what I think," Lucifer explains coldly.

"Isn't that the very thing that got you expelled from school?" she asks lightly, shutting the driver's side door and stepping towards him, willing herself to stop shaking so hard. She can do this. Clean up Dean's mess. This is clearly her destiny.

Lucifer stiffens. "Your part in this is done. You should go."

"No," Lizzy shakes her head. "Not without…."

"Your boy?" he finishes for her. "Dean is gone. He's done for. He's mine."

"No… I know he's probably gone…"

"He is," Lucifer ensures.

"But I came for you. Not him."

The fury on his face, her little boy she raised to be a good man, scared her to her core.

"Elizabeth, I'm warning you…."

"_Lucifer_!"

Flapping of wings and a shouting voice, they both turn to find Castiel standing by, an angel blade in his hand and a scowl on his face.

"Castiel, the Angel of Thursday," Lucifer laughs at his own joke. "I know you love her, which undoubtedly pisses me off, but you don't belong here."

"I belong wherever she is," Castiel nods at Lizzy as she stares at him with shock. "It is my job to watch over her."

"It was your job to watch over Dean here too," Lucifer smirks with his arms out to the sides in presentation as he wears one of Castiel's charges. "Good work there, little brother."

"We have been busy because of all the trouble you've caused. Leave her be…."

"I think not," Lucifer says, snapping his fingers. Castiel explodes, his entire being eradicated into blood and meat.

Lizzy screams, shocked by the powerful display and the jarring death of someone she's known for years. She never summon him again when everything started to crumble, never prayed for help, because she knew he couldn't. He still came to try and help. He died for her.

She has to make this count. Time to kick it in the ass.

She pulls the pings out of her pocket and drops them onto the ground between Lucifer and herself, ten feet from each other. "Bvtmon tabges babalon."

The earth opens up into an endless pit, the wind swirling around them.

Lucifer smiles. "Impressive." He then looks down at the hole. "Chdr bvtmon tabges babalon."

As quickly as the door opened, it's slammed shut, the connected rings just lying on the grass of the park like nothing ever happened.

"But not good enough." Lucifer waves his arm and Lizzy flies through the air to her side, slamming into the Impala hard and denting the body work. She hits her head on the solid metal and falls to the grass dazed. Her head spins.

She groans and knows he's coming closer. She tries to crawl away but gets pulled back by her ankle. "No!"

"Elizabeth," he says her name with disappointment before tisking. "I thought you were smarter than this." He hauls her to her feet by her jacket lapels. "I thought you knew better than to keep fighting. All you had to do was give up."

"I won't give up on my son," she defiantly says to him as he takes her and slams her down on her back onto the hood.

"You should have," he tells her, pulling back a heavy fist and punching her square in the jaw. She groans hard, her mouth dripping blood with his strength. "I left you alive as a gift to Dean. That's what he wanted." He punches her again, getting her eye. It swells immediately. "But I never said anything about letting you live after you try to stuff me back into the Cage!"

As he punches her again, her nose snapping instantly, Lizzy's out of options. Last resort.

"Dean," she struggles out, blood on her tongue. "Dean… I'm not leaving you."

"He can't hear you," Lucifer lies, picking her up and slamming her into the windshield. It shatters with the force.

"Sweetheart… I'm here," she gets out, hardly able to breathe.

"Are you deaf!?" Lucifer shouts at her, another blow landed and Lizzy has to wonder how she hasn't blacked out yet. "After all you did!? You let Dean die! You let Louise die! You couldn't save her. And Sam's dead! You ruined my chance to see my daughter take what's hers and turn this world to darkness!"

She's so confused by all he blames her for but she needs her son to hear her. "Dean… please, fight this. Dean, I… I love you…."

The sun on the beautiful day glints off the chrome trip of the windshield at the perfect angle, catching Lucifer's eye. When he looks he sees it on the dashboard. The flaw in the leather.

Dean made that by accident while trying to install an iPod jack right after Lizzy handed the car down to him.

His brain flips over. Dean's memories coming flooding back to him in a split second.

He and his mother reading in bed before lights out when he was just four. Uncle Sam and he watching zombie movies late night and against his mother's orders. Kissing Jenny Gifford on the playground in sixth grade, his first real kiss. Learning to fire a gun out on Bobby's property. His mother and he eating breakfast together before school. Grandma Karen giving him huge hugs and baking him apple pie when he'd visit because it was his father's favorite. His fish dying when he was five, crying over the toilet during the funeral his mother held. Kisses on the cheek from mom, saying goodnight to his father's photo with her every night as a young boy. Bobby teaching him how to do his first oil change. Sam cheering him on during baseball games. His first beer at a bar with Uncle Sam. His blow out fight with his mother at the age of seventeen. Talking with her on her beloved deck. Learning about his dad when he was little and then learning the truth at sixteen. Reading the journal entry about his mother that his father wrote days before he died. His mother trying so hard to get him back on track the past few years. His mother hugging him when he was just a child, every day. His mother tearfully handing him the keys to the Impala the day he got his license. His mother kissing his cheek and telling him she loves her more than anything else in the whole wide world.

His mother. His absolute savior.

Dean's hand's let go of her jacket and he backs up a couple shaky steps. He blinks hard a few times, shakes his head, and realizes his body is actually listening to him. He's in control.

He grabs at his head when Lucifer tries to regain control, feeling him craw and scratch for it back.

Lizzy just breathes hard a few times, the pain almost everywhere. This is it. She's going to die.

"Mom!?"

The panicked voice isn't that of Lucifer. She knows the difference. Lifting her head the little that she can. Lizzy watches Dean reach frantically out for her.

"Oh god," he worries as she's a pummeled mess. Her blood is on his knuckles. He did that. "Mom…."

"Hi," she says in a wavering voice, knowing it's him. She groans in pain as he gets her onto her feet. They look at each other for a moment, the split second true and warm.

"Hey… mom… ugh!" Dean grabs his head again. Lucifer is fighting. "Mom, go!"

"No!" she says defiantly.

"He'll kill you!" Dean knows, his head on fire.

"No he won't," she promises and tries again. "Bvtmon tabges babalon."

The ground shakes and gives way all over again, once more opening the doorway to the Cage.

Lizzy reaches for her son. "I love you. More than anything," she cries, saying her goodbye. She'll burn for the damnation she's setting her own boy up for but she has to do it. She can't save him but she has to save him from ruining the world.

"I love you too," he nods, getting it. He was in Lucifer' head too. He knows what that portal in the ground is. He knows what it means for him and he knows he has to do it. He's scared to high hell but he's made his bed and he can lay in it. It's his destiny.

Lizzy wraps her arms around him, saying her goodbye. "You fight him. Don't give him an inch."

"I will," he tells her, terror in his voice.

She lets him go and backs up a couple steps. She nods, he nods back and closes his eyes.

Right as he's about to fall his head explodes in pain. Dean doubles over and clutches his head, screaming.

"Dean!" she calls to him and watches with absolute horror as he straightens up, his face no longer that of her son. Lucifer took back control.

He smiles at her, smug and triumphant, as he turns to reverse the spell once more.

"NO!" Lizzy yells from the depths of her soul, not ready to fail. She won't let him win and it won't be her son's image that takes the world down in flames.

Without thinking she takes off, rushing Lucifer. She tackles him with every ounce of strength left in her body, shouldering him in the back and shoving him over the edge. As he starts to falls he reaches back and grabs her jacket, fisting it in his fingers and never letting go.

She loses her balance. She gets taken with him, both falling endlessly down the pit that lands in the Cage.

A massive flash of light and the Cage door shuts.

The wind dies. The park is calm and sunny. Everything looks untouched.

All that's left is a connected four rings in the grass.

And one slightly beat up, slightly blood splattered, lonely 1967 Chevrolet Impala.


	59. Back to Life, Back to Reality

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.**

* * *

Waking from a different reality never got easier, even after the fourth time. The whiplash of universe-bouncing is confusing, painful emotionally, and just plain tiresome. But once more, no matter what toll it takes, Lizzy and Dean both wake up with the obligatory sharp inhale and sudden movement.

"Fuck me," Dean complains to himself, his voice filled with weakness after four different realities having hammered him hard. The last he knew he was a vampire that got burned out from the inside by what he assumes was an angel… probably Castiel. He rubs at his face as he sits up, a hard floor underneath him. Shoulders slumped, he shakes his head no with sights lowered after the horrible way this last glimpse ended. He died. He left her. He left her to defend his brother all on her own. He wasn't there to help raise his own son that he assumes must have been born just like in all the other realities and he wasn't there when everything undoubtedly went to hell to back her up and stop it all. She ended up alone.

He'd never allow that to happen.

Before he can look up from the floor within his haze of regret and sadness, he feels his face being grabbed by two very warm and familiar hands. In a blink there are lips he knows oh so well kissing him, the feeling of it hitting him deep and hard. He remembers this feeling. He remembers this soul-deep pull for the only person he truly needs clear as day despite not having had it in so long.

And when the kiss is over and Dean lifts his lids he's greeted with a pair of beautiful chestnut brown eyes focused hard on him, tear rimmed and lost.

Sitting on her knees in front of him, Lizzy's heart is ripped in two. She lost him. She felt that pit, she felt the absolute crushing pain of losing him and she's never felt that level of pain before. Yes, it was horrible when he was dragged to Hell after his deal to keep Sam alive years ago but this was so much worse. She's known him and been with him for years. He's the reason why she bothered getting up in the morning. He's the father of her beautiful little boy. He's so much to her, he's her everything… and she just forgot. She let everything around them cloud her vision of him and she let it go.

"I was wrong," she cries quietly, her hands still on his cheeks as she looks right at him, breathing raggedly as she speaks for the first time to him in what feels like years. A set of tears trail down her face as she takes a deep breath. "I shouldn't have pushed you away. I'm so sorry."

And he breaks. Dean reaches out and pulls her in tightly, knowing he might be crushing her in an unbreakable hug but he can't stop himself. This is all he's needed for so long. Just this.

"Dean, I'm sorry," she sobs into his neck, her hands clutching into the back of his canvas jacket as she holds onto him for dear life. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to end it."

"Thank God," Dean sighs, a hand to the back of her head. His fingers weave into her hair, the smell of cherry filling his nose and making everything better again. "That's the best thing you've ever said to me… well, right after 'I'm pregnant'."

Lizzy laughs once through the tears at that. "Bullshit. You were horrified when I said that."

"Still the best thing you've ever said to me," Dean rebuts, sure of it.

"Dean, I… I can't… I need you," she keeps right on crying, everything finally getting to her and making her see it all for what Castiel wanted them to. "I can't live my life without you in it. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Dean repeats back to her. "L, that's all that matters. We love each other. Nothing else matters. We let ourselves think all that crap out there matters…."

"I know. I know," her voice hitches with her upset. "Please, I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me."

"Leave _you_?" Dean huffs a laugh and pulls back to look right at her, a small smile on his face. "I would never leave you. You left me."

"I was _so_ wrong," she says, her voice high pitched and pathetic… yet, in his eyes, adorable coming from her. "Damn it, I fucked everything up."

"Come here," Dean laughs slightly, pulling her close again. With her pressed against him he can feel her body hiccup with sobs and the warmth he gets from her fills his entire being. "Calm down, L. Everything's alright now. Breathe."

She takes the shakiest deep breath she's ever taken in attempt to bring it all down.

"There you go. Don't make this an attack," Dean soothes, not looking for a full panic attack from her right now. "We're good. We're gonna be good."

"How?" she asks desperately, asking in to the crook of his neck as he pulls her tight.

"We have some work to do," Dean nods while raking through her long, still horribly blonde hair, knowing it won't be easy. There are some open wounds and some serious issues still there that not even a trip through several alternate realities could fix right away. "But I want to do the work."

"Me too," she says, sounding young and scared still. "Whatever it takes."

Dean hates that fear in her voice. He pulls her away from him and looks right at her. "I'm never gonna not love you, L."

"Oh God. I love you so much," Lizzy cries out, her hands grasping to his jaw again as she once more sharply pulls him into her, her lips on his as quickly as she can get them there.

And their lips can't seem to separate. It's fusion. They've been so dumb, so mean, so horribly overwhelmed by the world they live in and so blinded by utter bullshit that they somehow let it slip their minds that this thing they have is exceptional and necessary and so good.

Now the world feels right. For the first time in months it felt very much right, like it always had before. Like it was always supposed to be.

"Fucking angels," Lizzy huffs out before hugging Dean tightly again. With her cheek pressed to his she sighs, releasing an insurmountable level of tension and fear from her system as she does. It's then that her eyes focus on the surroundings over his shoulder. "Um… Dean?"

"Hm?" he hums in question, turning his head to the side to look at her. When he does he can see the surprise recognition in her expression as her sights wander around.

"Are we…?" she starts to ask, sitting up tall and scanning the one room cabin. "Holy shit. This is the cabin."

"What cabin?" Dean wonders, also checking out the new place they've just now recognized around them. They aren't in the institute anymore.

"_The_ cabin!" she says with sheer reverent adoration for the place. "This is our honeymoon spot."

"Shit," Dean nods when he recognizes it. "Yeah." He points to the bear fur rug in front of the big stone fireplace. "Even Yogi's here."

"Oh, I loved that weekend," Lizzy says to him, eyes locked on his with adoring wonder. "It was the best three days of my life."

Dean smiles as he stares at her, his hands cupping her face. He wipes away her tears with his thumbs. "Same here."

"That is why I brought you both here."

Eyes flicking to the furthest corner of the one room cabin, they find Castiel's form, small and hesitant, standing there and looking at them on the hardwood floor by the front doorway.

"I remember how happy you both were when you were here," Castiel explains, quietly. "This was the last time you both felt issue free and unburdened in your love. I know you both haven't had much opportunity to be alone as of late, or even be together for that matter… but here, this was a place of happiness. You deserve to remember how that felt."

"Wait, how do you know all that?" Lizzy asks, catching the detail he might have wanted to keep quiet as she stands up from the floor. "Were… were you there that weekend?"

Castiel looks to his feet, bashful. "I never came _in_ here. That would be considered highly inappropriate as I am aware of the customs included in the tradition of going on a honeymoon. I know that sex is very important in celebration of joining two people in matrimony…."

"Uh… ok, Cass…" Lizzy tries to stop him but new Castiel is far too inquisitive and talkative for that.

"And to have sex one must shed clothing and inhibitions… or at least for good sex I hear that's true…."

"We know," Lizzy assures him, Castiel just smiling at her in return.

"Yes we do. And that was a busy weekend," Dean smirks a little with pride in their time they spent here as he stands up next to Lizzy.

"My intrusion would have been a breach of trust and privacy, I'm sure of it," Castiel continues to explain. "I stayed out in the woods around the cabin."

"Why?" Lizzy asks, slowly walking to the angel.

His eyes meet hers, sincerity radiating from him. "I had to do what I always I had to do."

"Which is?"

"Protect you," the angel answers, not understanding why she didn't already know the answer. "Elizabeth, I look after you. You and Samuel. And I want you to be happy. I hope now, after all this… you see that."

Getting choked up, Lizzy stands in front of Castiel. He flinches at first when she reaches for him but when she simply grabs his hand in hers he relaxes. She smiles with watery eyes. "You're a really good friend, Cass." She sniffles and huffs a laugh while more tears spill. "You are. We're lucky to have you in our lives."

When she slams into him in a hug, her arms around his neck, Castiel freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then he remembers this. Once, when she was just five, Castiel came to her in the form of one of her neighbors. She was in her backyard, playing on the swing set alone as Lou and her family were away for that summer weekend, and Castiel joined her. He sat on the swing next to hers and they spoke briefly. He'd already fallen for the little girl through the years and he just couldn't help himself. He had to speak to her directly, not through dreams or the subconscious. The real her. And when they parted she gave him a hug, saying 'Bye, Cassie' before she ran inside. She knew who he was all along. She could feel it.

He felt like his heart was exploding. It was the first time he had a real emotion, he recalls that vividly. And this hug right now feels so much like that. He adores her so much that her happiness means the world to him.

"As I am you," Castiel admits and brings his arms around her too.

"I love you, Cassie," she whispers to him, needing him to know that.

"Yes, well," Castiel starts, backing away from the embrace and getting slightly awkward with a bashful smile. "I know how important the people you love are to you, Elizabeth. I feel honored."

"Thank you for doing all this for us," she tells him, feeling Dean walking up next to her. "You knew we were being stupid."

"You are one to do that now and then… both of you," Castiel says lightly, joking. Kind of. "I just… you need to understand a few things. First and foremost you two are meant to be together. My entire existence for the past several millennia has been revolving around the outcome of you both. It doesn't matter which way it goes… you two are always going to love each other. Why fight that? And why let anything come between you? You have what so many never will get. You have the most perfect thing my Father ever created."

Lizzy and Dean glance at each other with the heaviness of it all.

"And… I know you may think me cruel for the reality I ultimately chose to make you live but, believe me, I chose very carefully." Castiel sighs. "I… I know what your son means to you both. And, to be quite honest, I've become quite fond of the young child myself. I enjoy his questioning nature and his ease within even frightening situations. He shall be quite the handful for you both in the coming years, I promise you as much."

"Great," Dean huffs a laugh despite looking forward to his boy growing and challenging him every step of the way.

"Not sure what else you would have expected from the offspring of one very curious and stubborn woman and a quite brazen, trouble-seeking man." Castiel shares a lopsided smile look of amusement. "I just wanted what was best for Samuel as I only assumed you'd both want the same. I went with a reality in which you knew as much as you could and you could fight for his future. I went with this path because Samuel has a fighting chance within this one."

Lizzy smiles lightly. "Thank you for that."

"I just couldn't see you all fall apart because of my decision." Castiel shrugs like it's nothing.

"But… wait," Dean's mind gets scrambled with his confusion over everything. "You saw the endgame of every reality, right?"

"Yes."

"Then… give us the last chapter, man," Dean asks with obviousness. "I mean, you can tell us everything we need to know. You've seen it. How do we stop it all?" His eyes light up hopefully, Lizzy joining him.

"That I cannot do," Castiel tells him, face dropping.

"Why not!?" Dean asks, upset.

"Because you didn't travel the path set for you," Castiel explains. "This all… free will took more of a lead in your story than I could ever have foreseen. I had no idea before you averted Lucifer and Michael's attempts that such a thing could actually be done in this reality."

"Are you saying we… broke our destiny? We seriously did that?" Dean asks, always having assumed they did but never getting the confirmation of it all.

"I'm saying you took a sledgehammer to it," Castiel tells him, hands out to his sides. "By now I thought Lucifer would be dead, Sam taken down with him, and Dean… you'd be a damaged former vessel but you'd be alive. And since you helped Michael be victorious and the one Antichrist never came to be for some reason, there'd be no need for a Second Coming of God. Samuel would be off the hook. You had a house in a small town in California and lived out your days there until Dean died of a heart attack at sixty-one…."

"I told you!" Lizzy gets mad at Dean's never-to-be future. He just rolls his eyes at her as she smacks his arm.

"And Lizzy passed of old age in her nineties… Samuel doing the same eventually after leading a life of quiet, family oriented bliss. He had a wife and three children. They were never totally safe but Samuel knew some things. He did all he could. He never hunted but he protected his own."

Lizzy pauses, holding her breath as she presses a hand over her mouth. "We ruined that?"

"Most certainly." He answers plainly, not meaning to be rude but honest.

"Could we ever get that back?"

Castiel looks at her curiously. "Sam is alive. Lucifer never took him down permanently. And Louise is back, something I also never saw coming. There _are_ perks to all this."

Lizzy nods, unsure of how to feel at all right now. Dean just looks down to the floor, lost in thought.

"I feel maybe this whole experience may have been heavier than anticipated," Castiel says, looking them both over and feeling the storm of confusion within Lizzy. "That was not my goal… to confuse you. Or burden you. I just wanted you to be together and see how happy you are when a united front. You can't be happy apart, that much has always been obvious to me, and unless you saw at least some of what I did…." He sighs. "I'm just not sure you'd have been able to repair your bond without that little bit of help."

"So you're like our really big… super-hippy Band Aid," Dean comments and receives a kind, happy smile in response.

Castiel lightens up, smiles a little even. "I like that."

Lizzy just stares at Castiel for a quick moment.

"What is it?" he asks with a light smile still there, head tilted and happy to answer her queries as always.

"You're just… so different now."

"I'm still me," Castiel answers, slightly hurt with his eyebrows knit together.

Lizzy smiles, "You're always _you_. But you're… a new you. A freer you."

Castiel nods slightly but doesn't respond.

"Thanks, Cass," Dean says to the angel, hands shoved in pockets with slight embarrassment over everything Castiel has had to do just to help his relationship. "We really needed this."

"I know that, Dean. And I was happy to help. You are both very meaningful to me and you've taught me just how important emotional ties to other beings can be. I feel, now that I've experienced some of that, that this may just be the meaning of existence. Being with others, having relationships with people, bonds. This must be what my Father wanted. I don't see how I could be wrong about that," Castiel says, the slightest of smiles on his face. He then shifts on his feet and breaks the moment. "Well, I will see you both in three days."

"What!? No, wait!" Lizzy stops him, grabbing his arm before he disappears. "Wait, three days!? What are you talking about?"

"I'm giving you your honeymoon," Castiel clarifies. "That was three days long. Go and be clothing-less."

"But I want to see Sammy," Lizzy tells him with true concern. "After all this… after seeing him get taken from us over and over… please, Cassie. I want to see him."

Castiel sighs and looks away from her for a moment. "I already told you, time is…."

"No time-talk bullshit," she denies him.

"Can we just go back, Cass?" Dean jumps in. "This whole thing was freakin' exhausting and I wouldn't mind seeing the kid myself right now." And he means that completely. He misses his boy after this experience.

"Once we return, this little trip is over. You'll never get this opportunity back. I think it best you take this time together for all it is worth," Castiel denies them. "Like I said before, no time shall pass while you're here. You are missing _nothing_ of Samuel's life. When I bring you back it will be as if you were never gone."

One look at Lizzy and the angel can tell that she's still dying to see her boy.

"Elizabeth, I know you love that child more than previously thought possible," Castiel says, a grin on his face she's still not quite used to seeing. "This is one of the most endearing aspects of your personality, your ability to love so hard. But believe me. I would never put him at risk. And you need this."

Closing her eyes for a quick second, she just sighs and nods her agreement. "Fine. But when we get back I am getting the fuck out of that institution and spending some time with just him. And his daddy." Her eyes slide to the side and look at Dean, him giving a happy grin back.

Looking at the slight yet so important interaction, Castiel is pleased. He did his job. He did it well. What he showed them was painful, extremely difficult, and quite revealing but so worth it. This is what he should have been seeing from them all along.

"My heart is very full right now," Castiel comments, his wistful voice unlike him.

"Do you… have a heart, Cass?" Dean asks with sheer curiosity. "Like, a metaphorical one, I mean?"

Narrow eyes on Dean as Castiel cocks his head to the side and thinks, he responds with, "What an interesting and beautiful question."

And he disappears.

"Guess he's going looking for it," Dean quips quickly with the sudden departure.

Lizzy lets out a small laugh with the joke before it hits her. They're alone now. With Castiel's sudden absence she takes a deep breath before turning to look at Dean, her arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest. "Well… this has been a fucking weird ass day."

She chuckles awkwardly, the rift between them combined with the utterly intense experience they've just shared making everything feel odd.

But she can tell with one look at Dean that he's not feeling the same way. There's nothing awkward about him. His eyes are dark, needy, and his stance is suddenly different. He looks on the prowl, attack ready. He looks feral and focused. He looks needy.

The shock is clear on Lizzy face with the sudden change of Dean's demeanor but he doesn't care. He needs her. He can't deal with the talking-it-all-through just yet. It's been so long since he's felt her without a looming and heart-crushing goodbye to punctuate it. And sure, he had her in all the other incarnations of Lizzy but here, in this world, she's just _her_. Not a broken dance teacher running away, not some rich plantation girl, not a tattooed stripper… she's just his Lizzy. His L, the girl he fell for in a scary short amount of time and has never once lost any of his feelings for her. They've only grown stronger.

And for that reason alone he has to have her.

Lizzy swallows around a dry throat as he stares back at him, a deep breath taken when she knows what's about to happen. And she has no plans to stop it. He looks so good, so like the Dean she remembers underneath the insults and the betrayal. He looks like that guy she met at Bobby's with a little more time on his face. Wiser, worn, experienced, pained… it's always right there in his expression but Lizzy knows better. Most would call him damaged goods. She's calls him far better for all of it and utterly stunning for carrying it all.

No further words exchanged, Dean takes one large step towards her with true determination. Lightning quick, he grabs her thighs in a hard grip and lifts. He picks her up sharply and pulls her in flush against him. One hand at the back of her head, fisted tightly in her so-terribly blonde dyed hair, he knows his left hand that's still digging into her upper leg has to hurt.

Lizzy says nothing of it as she clutches to him, hands framing his face as her lips collide with his so hard it should bruise. It's just too incredibly freeing and perfect. The tension starts to drop bit by bit as their lips move together, the familiarity of that kiss like a security blanket warmly wrapping her up.

Lips connected, Dean uses his memory of the cabin to navigate his way nearly blindly to the big, cushy, king-sized bed. He has to get her on it. He has to get her naked. He has to get inside her. He has to have every ounce of her he can and there's nothing else on this planet that matters more in this moment.

When Dean puts her down on the mattress, Lizzy grips harder to him in order to take him with her. She won't part with him, not even for a couple of seconds. She's never letting him go again.

Tugging Dean down on top of her she locks her legs around his waist. Circling her arms around his neck with need, Lizzy hums with how damn good this has always been. They've never had a problem in this arena. Sex and physically letting their bodies and movements speak for them instead of words is as easy as ever. Actions do speak louder than words, it's true. The heat and desire and honest love they share never failed to come pouring out when they were alone.

As her tongue slides against his, Dean starts his frantic drive to get them skin to skin as fast as possible. He shoves his green canvas jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. It lands on the foot of the bed and is forgotten instantly. He then whips his shirt over his head as he watches Lizzy do the same with her blue scrub top that's uniform for the institution she's been watching over Castiel at. The moment he gets a good look at her bra covered breasts and mostly bare, light skin he can feel his entire body flashing hot for her.

"Ugh, God," Dean groans quietly to himself before lunging for her, his face instantly in her cleavage.

Lizzy moans when his tongue trails between her breasts and up to her neck, tilting her head to give him room. He kisses her skin, bites lightly once, and her hips press up into him.

"Please," Lizzy nearly whispers through heavy breaths, her fingertips dragging up and down his torso as she remembers the solid planes of his form.

With the one word coming quietly from her, Dean lifts his head and locks eyes, questioning.

She pauses for just a second, letting the brilliantly lit up green eyes stare into her without discomfort or questioning for once. She inhales sharply with the sight, those eyes making her weaker for him. "I just need to feel you," she admits to him and gets her limbs moving again after having been frozen for just a second with how good he makes her feel. She reaches for his jeans and starts opening them as quickly as her fingers can manage. "I need you."

Pressing his lips to hers wildly with the declaration, it being the perfect thing for her to say right now, Dean lets her work. The desire and want Lizzy's showing for him is something he'd been sure he'd lost and would never get back. But here he is, the love of his life shoving the last of his clothing down his legs as he kicks out of his boots, and she's not going anywhere. Never again. He won't ever lose her again.

All his clothes off and kneeling upright between her legs, Lizzy sits up quickly and holds onto his sides, her mouth leaving a trail of kisses in a pattern-less map across his chest. "I'm sorry, Dean," she says between kisses, feeling large hands weave into her long hair behind her head. "Baby, I'm sorry." The apologies spill from her mouth and she can't stop them. "I missed you so much. My fault… I shouldn't have… I'm sorry."

"Hey," Dean calls to her but she doesn't hear him. She's keeps apologetically speaking into his skin.

"I shouldn't have given up," she tells him honestly, her lips on his abs as she humble admits her faults. "I was so wrong. I'm sorry, Dean…."

"_Hey_," he calls to her a little louder, using his hands in her hair to gently pull her away from his chest and angle her head upwards. He makes her look at him as he tells her, "Stop it. Why are you doing that?"

Her wide eyes peer up at him with honest affection. "I ended this. It was my fault…."

"L, knock it off," Dean tells her in a calm, loving voice as he brings one hand to her cheek. "We did this. _We did_, ok? It wasn't just you."

"But I gave up," she tells him, eyes rimmed with tears. "I'm the one that quit. I told you I would never do that…."

"That was before," Dean shakes his head, sitting back on his heels and getting eye level with her. He holds her face in his hands to make sure she listens to what he has to say.

"Before what?" she doesn't understand, her hands tightening on his sides with horrible guilt.

"Before we had Sammy," Dean reminds her. "Sammy changed everything. You were a good enough mother to put him first and make sure he wouldn't grow up surrounded by hostility and worthless fighting and parents that hated each other."

"I never hated you," she tells him, eyes spilling yet again through the extreme emotional toll of the experience they've had. "I swear. I never hated you. I've loved you through it all. Dean, never…."

"I know," Dean tells her, laughing lightly at the clear heartache she still feels over her decisions. "L, I know it all," he promises, kissing her lips once to show he's fine. "I'm not mad at you."

"I'm mad at myself," she admits, looking down to avoid him.

"Then cut the shit," Dean tells her easily, once more nudging her face to make sure she looks at him.

When she does he has a small smile on his face.

"It's in the past," Dean vows. "All of it. I can put everything in the past if you can."

Put it all in the past. At first that makes her think about what he did. Betraying her trust. The harsh words. The refusal to come home for months on end. It all hurt so much.

But then she thinks about all _she_ did. The much _harsher_ words. The denial of every attempt he had to patch things up. The actual break up of their marriage.

"_Can_ you do that?" Dean wonders when she gets in her own head for too long, worrying that she can't let bygones be bygones. The idea that even after all this she couldn't go back is terrifying to him.

"Yes," she answers with certainty. They are both at fault here. They can both get over all the crap they've done. "Yeah, I can do that. I _want_ to do that."

Dean smiles with relief at that. "Good," he nods a bit before inching closer to her. "Good. So… can I get you naked now? Because I am _dying_ here."

Lizzy burst out a laugh and wipes away her tears. "Yes. Please."


	60. Hunters' Therapy

**Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile. For this chapter I highly recommend reading the full version. A lot needed to be taken out.**

* * *

"Mm, hmm," Lizzy hums happily when she rolls over in the big, insanely comfortable bed after an arm snakes around her waist from behind. The heat of the form behind her, the inviting scent of the one man she knows she's lying next to, makes her need to see him right this second. Once she's facing him, that arm of his pulling her even closer until their bodies are molded together, she opens her eyes. There he is, spikey hair going every which way after a good night's sleep and smiling emerald eyes completely with crow's feet aimed right at her.

Yesterday was real. It wasn't all imagined or dreamed up by her over active mind. It all happened, the weird yet necessary disaster Cass put them through finally over and they're back. And he's still here. _They're_ still here.

"Hi," she whispers at him as she watches Dean search her face, his eyes darting every which way.

"Hi there," he responds, voice rough with sleep as his fingers brush her bangs out of her eyes a bit. His touch is so gentle she has to sigh, having forgot how sweet he could be when they were alone and not fighting. That's right. Dean is actually sweet when no one else is looking.

Without thinking, Lizzy brings a hand to his neck and pulls him in, kissing him softly to say good morning without words.

As she ends the kiss she can feel a hand sliding over her hair and down her back smoothly before landing lightly on the round of her ass.

Absorbing her curves through touch, Dean grins a little. They never got redressed the night before. Why bother? "Now this is how a man is supposed to wake up in the morning."

She huffs with his joking. Always joking. "This is how I want to wake up every single day for the rest of our lives."

His face drops at that, knowing that will never be possible for them with the way real life seems to be going.

"Don't make that face," Lizzy says easily, her hand now cupping his cheek when the slight sadness washes over his expression. "I know it can't happen that way. I just wish it could."

"Me too," Dean answers in return, his forehead wrinkling a bit.

"Let's just aim for waking up next to each other more days than not from now on," she suggests.

"That's far more doable," he grins at her, kissing her lips quickly once before looking at her and sighing. "I hate to do this on our honeymoon part two and all but I think we gotta talk about some stuff."

Lizzy face drops. "Talk about things I never thought I'd hear you say."

Dean gives her a serious, don't-fucking-start face and she huffs a quiet laugh at him.

"You're right. We do," Lizzy nods. "Especially since we spent yesterday not _talking_ so much as… well, fucking." She grins, the basic was she says it being the only way she could get her early morning brain to say it.

"Hey, that was a day well spent." Dean wags his eyebrows at her.

"I agree." She then grins like a girl with a crush.

"But I think we have to make sure we don't let this mess we made happen again."

"You're completely right."

He nods absently while clearing his throat. "And we need to talk about Sammy's future."

"Oh, I miss him," Lizzy immediately melts with the sheer mention of him. "Waking up without crying or babbling was nice and all but… ugh, I hate it."

"We'll see him soon," Dean tries to bright side but she calls his bluff right away. Her face of sheer disbelief and bullshit-calling looks back at him. "I miss him too, alright. I never get to see him… something else I wanna talk about."

"We can do all of that," Lizzy nods. "We have a lot to figure out before we leave here."

Dean sends her a lopsided smirk. "I mean, don't get me wrong," he starts, grabbing onto the back of her thigh and pulling her with him as he rolls over in the thick bedding. He settles her on his hips as he pulls her arms around his neck. "I plan to make sure to leave plenty of time for…" He pauses to kiss her. "Other assorted…." Another kiss. "Activities."

"Yes, please," Lizzy giggles.

Dean takes in that sound, the honestly happy giggle he remembers her always having yet he hasn't heard in just so long, and he smiles. Nose to nose he tells her, "But I want to make sure you know that the mistakes I made weren't ones I'll ever repeat."

"I know you won't," she tries to assure him.

"And… I don't know about you, but I noticed some things about those other realities Cass showed us," Dean gets a little serious. "Some things that I don't think he meant to let slip."

"Like?" Lizzy asks, sitting up while straddling him, her face serious and full of curiosity all of a sudden.

Dean can't stop his eyes from wandering over her frame, still naked from the previous day. "We might have some information we didn't have before about where all this could be leading for Sammy. Every ending we saw was different but each one gave us some clues that might come in handy."

"Shit," Lizzy says with sudden recognition. Her eyes grow wide. With anger at herself for not looking at the details fully, Lizzy pulls back the covers and flies out of bed.

"Aw, L… what are you doing?" Dean complain as he sits up against the wooden pine headboard and watches her frantically search the cabin.

"I need to write down everything we remember while it's as fresh in our minds as it'll ever be," she explains, her naked antics continuing. She pulls open every drawer she can find, looking for paper and something to write with.

"We have two full days left to do that…."

"And it'll only get harder and harder to remember everything the longer we wait," Lizzy says to him, making it clear that this is happening right now.

Dean rolls his eyes, grumbling to himself quietly as he gets out of the giant, comfortable bed. "I know something else that'll only get harder and harder the longer we wait…."

"What's that?" Lizzy asks, head in the armoire cabinet.

"Nothing, L," Dean huffs, looking down at his morning erection with sadness. "Sorry, big guy. The lady has spoken."

When Lizzy watches him start to walk across the cabin for the bathroom, sporting quite the hard on, she starts to feel bad. "Shit…."

"It's fine," Dean waves her off, not wanting her to feel bad. "I'm the one that started this anyways. Sammy's more important. I'm gonna hit the shower first… and you're gonna put some clothes on."

"Why bother?" Lizzy jokes with a smirk.

"Because if we're gonna get any work done I'm gonna need you to be wearing some clothes." He shuts the bathroom door and he can hear Lizzy laugh from the other side.

* * *

Dried off, Dean stands in front of the mirror over the small, white porcelain sink in the compact bathroom. As she rubs a hand through his damp hair to shake it out he's realizing just how badly he needs to get back into the same room as Lizzy… and how stupid it is that a five minute shower was too long away from her. Before now he was spending months on end away from her while he hunted and she hid with Sammy from the Leviathan and everything else evil in the world. It wasn't easy and it didn't feel good but still, they did it.

But right now, five minutes seems far too long to be separated. And he's fully aware of what a lame ass he is for feeling that way. It's like they just met all over again, constantly craving the presence of the other.

He laughs quietly at his own stupidity before pulling his t-shirt, boxer briefs and jeans back on. No bags with their things means no fresh clothes.

When Dean opens the bathroom door he pauses in the doorframe, leaning against it with his shoulder. Arms folded, he stands there and watches her for a moment.

Lizzy is laying across the bed on her stomach while facing away from him, her knees bent and her ankles crossed in the air. She wiggles her toes as she writes something down with a pen she found on a scrap of paper. She pulled her long, fake-blonde hair up into a messy knot atop her head and the view of her long neck makes him swallow hard. It reminds him of that innocent girl he met on the prairie in a glimpse of their other realities, Ellie being far more innocent than his Lizzy. Back in the 1800s, all he had was her neck to really look at for so long. God damn, he never realized until now how fucking sexy a neck can be.

And to top it all off, the only thing she appears to be wearing is his flannel shirt. The sleeves rolled up keep her forearms bare and the length is just a little too short, revealing the bottom curves of her cheeks. Her ass. It kills him every time without fail.

"Well, now, that's just not fair," Dean says and makes her turn her head sharply, looking right at him without moving from her place. She cocks an eyebrow at him, silently asking what it is he's talking about. "You wear it better."

A slow, sweet smile grows across her face. "I beg to differ but to each their own, I guess."

Dean huffs and starts towards her.

"Then again, I don't think I've ever made a plain black t-shirt look like sheer sex like you somehow do," she continues, appreciating the sight of him coming closer. His bare feet pad across the hardwood floor, his bow-legged gate always prominent, and her heart races with it. The whole thing is so simple, so mundane, but it makes her stomach flip anyways.

"What, this old thing?" Dean jokes off, grabbing the old and worn cotton material at his chest for a second before reaching the bed, climbing onto it and laying down on his side next to her. He places a hand on her back and rubs it affectionately. "You getting a head start?"

"Yes. I just kind of spewed out everything I could recall easily from each reality," she explains, her legs swinging behind her as she reads over her work. "I figured if I went one reality at a time, told you what I experienced and saw and learned, you could then fill in all the blanks with whatever I might have missed or forgot."

"Works for me," Dean tells her, looking at the paper.

"Ok, let's start with the first one," she points to the first list on the page.

Dean reads the heading and smirks. "Dance Teacher and Hot Daddy?"

"It's an accurate description, isn't it?" she smiles and leans into him, nudging him with her shoulder.

"Fair enough," Dean nods, thinking about how everything went down in that reality.

"Okay, so for what I know I think this is what happened," Lizzy trails her index finger down the list. "Sammy was nineteen when God came for him. He somehow got right into him no problem and took over. I have no idea if he said yes or was… made to say yes." She hates the idea that he could have been compelled to say yes. "God then basically hand delivered you and Sam right to Michael and Lucifer. I assume you said yes easily that time around?"

"I was told the only way I could help Sammy was if I said yes to Michael."

"I don't blame you," she smiles lopsided. "Anything else you saw?"

"Nah, that's about it," Dean nods, recalling the horrible experience. He sets aside the pain of Sammy getting taken from him and the absolute gut-wrenching loss of Alice as a person that existed in his life in order to focus on the facts. "That's all I know too."

"Damn," Lizzy complains while checking off the title she gave that reality. "Nothing new for us there. Alright, how about the Stripper-verse?"

Dean pauses and looks at her with a smirk, his mood instantly lifting. "I liked that one."

"I'm sure you did," she rolls her eyes, knowing that the Liz of that world was quite something… fake boobs and women-loving and everything else that Dean dreams of.

"My God, you were smoking," Dean lets her know, his hand tracing the lines of her ass now. "And you and Jo… uh…."

"Dean…."

"If we're ever short on cash I know how you can get some quick now… and a lot…."

"Dude. Try to focus."

"I can't now," Dean tells her, kissing her neck slowly, sexily, just one time. "All I can see is you wrapped around that gold pole half naked…."

"Dean," Lizzy says, serious face as she stops him. "Sex later. Sammy future crap now, hm?"

"Sorry." He frowns but focuses in. "Well, I can tell you Lucifer got to Sam first in that one."

"Right," Lizzy nods. "I didn't get to see a whole lot on that one once it all went down. I showed up to that destroyed tattoo shop and everyone was gone. And then Sam… or really, Lucifer, showed up at our house and killed me."

"Killed you?" Dean asks with surprise.

"Oh yeah. Stabbed through the heart."

"Why?" Dean asks with fear, the idea that Lucifer would even both once he got what he wanted surprising.

"He said he was being petty and he loathed me… or something like that," Lizzy explains. "He stabbed me in the chest with an angel blade. Then he wouldn't stop yapping until everything went black. He told me it wasn't fair that the angels never told me about my destiny and he respected me… but I guess his hate for me won out."

"Why would he hate you that much?"

"I helped make Sammy," she shrugs.

"Dick," Dean name-calls. "Well, I didn't get a whole lot on my end. Lucifer got into Sam somehow and he showed up at the tattoo shop. He then attacked me and tossed me through the storefront window. He started talking to Sammy but I didn't hear all that much from where I was lying on the sidewalk practically shattered. Michael then came to me and told me he could help. I said yes just like the time before since I didn't know my ass from my elbow in those realities and Luci backed off. Michael got to Sammy. That's about it." He thinks for a second. "But Michael kept saying something about it not being time, almost like everything was happening the wrong way or something."

"Really?" Lizzy asks with surprise.

"Yeah."

"So… you think Lucifer hijacked that reality… did destiny his own way? Like we did in the real world?" Lizzy asks with wide eyes.

"Probably. I mean, if we did it why couldn't he, right?" he points out. "Maybe Lucifer got out early in that one."

"How though?" Lizzy asks, totally confused. "You never wet to Hell in the Stripper-verse. You never started the Apocalypse."

"Yeah, that's true," Dean nods, pondering it over. "But what if it didn't have to be me that started it. Alistair said it was meant to be John. And maybe dad was busier than he let on in that other world. Maybe Adam existed over there too…"

"And maybe he got himself wrapped up in it," Lizzy goes along with him. "Shit. I mean, the angels substituted him for you in this world, why wouldn't the demons try and do the same in that world?"

"Or it could be any number of things that went differently," Dean adds on. "We only saw _our_ lives. And not all of them at that. There are so many what-ifs."

"Well, shit…." Lizzy complains, sitting up and folding her legs Indian-style while facing Dean on his side. "So anything we learned from these realities might mean jack shit here."

"It might," Dean admits that he agrees and he watches the frustration fill her expression. "But it might not. It's smart to go over this anyways. I can't hurt."

"I just want answers," she says a little choked up out of nowhere. "I'm not going to lose him, Dean. I can't."

"Me neither," Dean says, expression hardening while grabbing her hand in his, kissing the back of it with his odd and strong need for affection right now.

"Seeing Sammy taken like that?" she starts, her voice elevating. "Oh God, I've never been this scared of anything before."

"No, no," Dean stops her, gripping harder to her hand when she starts to cry. "Stop."

"I can't."

"You have to. You are _not_ allowed to cry about that shit anymore."

"Why not!?" Lizzy questions him, thinking he's nuts.

"Because you made it past losing him four times," Dean says to her. "And we're way better off than those other versions of us ever were."

"How do you figure?" she wonders.

"'Cause they didn't know what we know," Dean tells her, his tone serious. "And they weren't nearly as badass as we are."

"I don't know," Lizzy sniffles. "Other-hunter me was pretty fucking bad ass."

Dean laughs quietly. "She was, wasn't she?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, well… I still like _you_ better," Dean tells her. "And in this world I'm not going anywhere. We can do this."

Lizzy nods while taking a deep breath, controlling her emotions like he told her to. He watches her calming herself while wiping her eyes and smiles with pride.

"Now come on, tell me what you remember about the last one. I was dead so I missed a lot," Dean tells her, smiling lightly.

Lizzy sighs, the pain of losing him still fresh enough, and she picks up the pen. "Well, here's everything that happened… and strap in. It's a doozie."

* * *

"_Lucifer's daughter_." Dean shakes his head with that one after they've talked through each and every reality to exhaustion and compared notes. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Me neither but it was mentioned by Michael in the old west where you heard it and then by Lucifer to me in the other hunting universe," Lizzy points out. "I don't get it. It's not in the Bible like the Second Coming is. There's no mention at all of a daughter of Lucifer."

Dean shakes his head, sitting up against the headboard of the big bed with the list in his hand. For what they know it was mentioned in two alternate realities. "It has to be a real thing."

"But what the hell does it mean!?" Lizzy wonders.

"I have no idea."

"The only thing I can think of… maybe…." She sighs. "So Sammy's supposed to be the vessel of God and the Second Coming, right?"

"Supposed to be, but won't be, yeah."

She smiles at his certainty. "Damn straight," she grins and he mirrors her expression. They feel very good now, united and ready to take on anything after all this. "But if the Second Coming will be here to strike down the Antichrist… do you think that maybe Lucifer's daughter would be that Antichrist?"

Thinking it over, Dean's agreeing with her thought. "Shit. That makes sense."

She shakes her head. "So now, not only do we have to kill the Leviathan… we have to protect Sammy from God _and_ figure out who the Lucifer's daughter is? And stop her from killing our son someday and taking the spoils of the Earth?"

Dean sighs very heavily and drops the note page in his lap. His shoulder drop as he looks at her. "Basically, yeah."

Lizzy huffs one disgusted laugh. "This is too much, man."

"I know."

"How did the angels and everyone expect us to get through all this in one piece? We're just human. This is…." She just sighs sadly.

"Not sure they _did_ expect us to handle all this," Dean washes a hand down his jaw, stubble scratching his fingertips. "I bet they wanted us to lose out shit and be out of the way by now. Makes their job easier."

"Won't they be surprised when we're still around when God comes knocking."

"_If_ he does."

She nods. "Yeah, if he does." The sad way she says it makes it clear that she's pessimistic after all she's seen.

They both sit in silence for a moment with their very vague new information. It changes the game a bit, knowing for real that an Antichrist will rise and that Sammy will have to be the vessel that fights her (most likely) in the name of Heaven.

"I need a drink," Dean announces and gets out of bed to check the cupboards in the kitchen.

"Whiskey's under the sink," she tells him, having already checked out the kitchen.

They need a moment to get past this in order to try and enjoy their weekend and work on them….

* * *

"Ok, ready?" Lizzy asks as they sit in the hot tub, bottle of beer each as Lizzy sits in Dean's lap. Luckily Cass stocked them up with food and booze, knowing them well.

"As I'll ever be… I guess," Dean sighs, hating that they're about to play such a lame game. It was Lizzy's idea, of course, but right now he knows he should be doing what she wants of him in order to fix everything. He knows it'll be good in the long run for them… but still. He's a man. This sucks.

"Alright, I'll go first," she says with a bright grin, keeping submerged enough in the cold winter air of the Montana mountains. They have limited clothing so they decided none was best for heading into the hot tub, the soothing and quiet woods around them reminding them they're alone. It's perfect. "I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you more. Especially after the Amazon. I wasn't willing to hear what you had to say because I was hurt and I couldn't see past it. I'm a stubborn ass. I think it would've helped us if I had just listened."

Dean nods his head, surprised. "Ok, I take it back. I like this game."

Lizzy laughs a little. "When it's my turn I'm sure you do. But I'm serious. I just shut down after you told me everything and I didn't want to hear the why of it all. I only heard what happened. It was… I just couldn't imagine you doing that to me. It made no sense."

"It still doesn't," Dean admits. "L, I wouldn't do that to you, not knowingly…."

"I don't want to rehash the whole thing. I get it now. I swear." She smiles genuinely and Dean nods, accepting that she's moving on finally. "It just hurt. A lot. And I didn't handle it right, so I'm very sorry for that."

Dean just sits with that for a quick moment before saying, "Accepted."

"Ok, now it's your turn." She leans into him a little more as he takes a big gulp of his beer.

"Uh, alright… I'm sorry I stayed away for so long," he starts slowly, talking never exactly his forte. "I… I was too concerned with making sure you and Sammy were safe. I can't deal with the guilt if I put you two in danger."

"I know you meant well," Lizzy makes sure he understands.

"But it was a terrible idea," Dean tells her. "Everything around us was going down the toilet as it was. My staying away only made it worse. We never spoke much and when we did it was stressful and angry… I just felt like we were drifting apart and I wouldn't fix it if it meant I came home and endangered you." He huffs quietly once. "You're not the only stubborn ass in this hot tub right now."

"You don't say," she smirks in return.

"But I missed you," Dean admits with nothing short of sheer honesty. "And I missed Sammy so much…." He sighs. "I missed every freakin' milestone so far. The kid is so big now, talking and crawling…"

"He'll be walking soon," Lizzy tells him, hoping it'll help keep them together this time around when they get back. "Really soon. He pulled himself up on the foot of a couch last week."

Dean just stares at her for a second. "I won't miss it this time. I won't. I _can't_." His voice falters and instead of keep speaking he drinks some more beer, washing down the big lump in his throat.

"Then from here on out we make sure we stick together as a family. We won't separate like we did. We'll make some kind of compromise," Lizzy tells him with a smile and kisses his cheek. "Can I go again?"

"Be my guest," Dean huffs a laugh.

"I'm sorry I called you a bad father," Lizzy says. "You're not. Not at all. You are the best damn father there is and I… I wanted to hurt you when you wouldn't see us. I knew that everything you did was for us but I didn't care." She kisses his lips once quickly while keeping a hand on his cheek. "You're a wonderful father. Sammy's lucky to have you and I'm damn lucky too."

Dean peers downward for a moment. "I gotta be honest here… I didn't think you were totally wrong when you said it."

"What?" she startles out. "Why?"

"Staying away," Dean admits. "You told me he would forget me…."

"I was wrong to say that," Lizzy says strongly.

"You were right," he turns it around. "I was so pissed when you first said that that I just… but Sam… when I told him what you said he agreed with you. He told me Sammy would forget me if he didn't see me enough. And I still stayed away when I could have done something about it. That doesn't sound like a good dad to me."

Running her hand through his hair affectionately, Lizzy's heart hurt a little. "He loves you, Dean. He still knows you. I mean, did you see the way he lit up when you got to the institution? And how he leaned right for you when Cass blew the lights, arms open and ready for his daddy to hold him when he got scared even a little bit? He knows you. He knows you mean protection and love. Sammy _loves_ you."

The corner of Dean's mouth twitches at that thought, remembering when the poor kid got startled by Castiel's lame pull-my-finger-joke. Sammy went right for his dad, looking for comfort after the loud crashing and bright lights. It's corny how much love Dean felt with that small, natural move.

"Yeah, well… I love him too. More than I think he'll ever understand," Dean says very quietly, still weird about admitting things like this even in front of his wife. He never was ready for that level of true love when Sammy was suddenly brought into the world. It still scares him a little.

"I know that," she smiles and kisses him sweet and deep.

"I'm gonna change," Dean tells her, never more certain of his words. "I am. No more separating for months on end. We're in this as a family. No more absent dad."

Lizzy just smiles, happy to hear such words. Her throat constricts a little. "Thank you."

Dean runs a hand lightly down her back, looking right at her eyes despite how still naked she is. He can feel his entire soul recharging just being here with her.

"You're turn again."

"Damn it," Dean complains, another hefty sip of beer downed. "Fine, um… you were right. I should have known the difference between you and someone wearing your skin. I should have known that Amazon wasn't you and I shouldn't have done what I did… with her."

He can feel her back stiffen and her tension level rise with the mention of the Amazon. One look at her expression and he can see how affected she still is over that.

"I'm really sorry, L. I completely broke your trust…."

"No, you didn't," Lizzy tells him, looking down at the bottle of beer in her hands as she picks at the label. "You didn't go out and just sleep with some chick, Dean. You didn't knowingly cheat on me because we were fighting and you were pissed off. You thought it was me."

"I should have known it wasn't," Dean sternly repeats. "She… smelled different. She spoke different. She had clothes on that you would _never_ wear…. I was just so damn desperate to have you back and for things to go right between us. It had been a nightmare and you… I thought it was you, presenting a damn dream. It clouded my judgement."

"I get that," Lizzy nods, telling the truth. It still hurts but she can understand that desperate need. They were in a terrible place to start with. "And who knows? Maybe I would have done the same thing in your shoes."

"No way," Dean denies immediately.

Lizzy looks at him funny. "How can you be that sure?"

"You're smarter than me," he tells her without thought. "You'd know right away if something wasn't right. You always do."

Nodding to herself with a grin of pride, she likes that he knows this about her. And it's true. Lizzy would know the difference. "Can I get you to say that I'm smarter than you on video for future proof?"

"No," he adamantly responds. "And I'll deny I ever said if you ever bring it up again."

"I figured," she laughs lightly before clearing her throat. "Uh, I have another one."

"Shoot."

"I'm sorry I said you were like John," Lizzy apologizes, her bashful tone and sad eyes proving how remorseful she is. "I know what a low blow that was. And I know your relationship with him was… complicated at best. I don't think you're like him when it comes to being Sammy's dad."

"But I am in a way," Dean admits. "I get too protective. And I made bad decisions because of it."

"True, but Sammy will never think for a second that you don't love him," she explains. "He will never question your dedication to him because you'll always be there. You won't disappear anymore for weeks without knowing where you are. If he calls when he's older, you'll answer. If he needs you then you'll drop everything for him… right?"

Dean looks down at his beer bottle, embarrassed. "I was more like dear old dad lately than I realized."

"But you're changing that, right?" Lizzy cautiously asks, afraid of the answer.

"Absolutely," Dean says to her, his promise to make sure he changes. He then tilts the neck of his beer bottle at her.

She grins wide, clinking her bottle with his and taking the promise. They each watch as the other kills off their beers.

When done Dean lets out a huge burp.

"Aw, just like his son," Lizzy jokes. "I'm surrounded by male heathens."

"You know it," Dean quickly responds as he takes her empty from her and places them both on the edge. He then pulls her arms around his neck before circling his own arms around her waist. "Are we done with this yet?"

"Did you apologize for everything?" Lizzy asks, smiling with how close he pulls her. She settles in, still sitting on his right thigh as he comes closer.

"You already know I regret everything," Dean tells her, kissing her slowly once to start that slow burn. "And I already know you want this to work." He kisses her again. "So, we make this work. I won't leave for months on end. You won't say mean shit. I won't bang doppelgangers and you'll make sure you always keep fighting for us. We work as a team. We'll _both_ be there for Sammy."

"You and me," she grins wide.

"You and me," he agrees very easily.

Still smiling, Lizzy leans into him and kisses him hard, everything aired and everything in their past. She won't be that bitch anymore. He won't be distant anymore.

"Let's go inside," Dean says, pushing her up by the hips. "I got an idea."

* * *

After drying off and putting on minimal clothing, Dean has them standing in the middle of the big open cabin facing each other. They stand in front of the fireplace and the only thing between them is the bearskin rug, Lizzy at the head in her basic bra and underwear and Dean at the tail with only a black t-shirt and his boxer briefs.

"You know, the hot tub was really nice," Lizzy lets him know she's not happy about leaving it.

"I know."

"So what's your plan here, Hot Shot? Why'd you get us out of that nice, warm, relaxing hot tub?" Lizzy asks, hands on her hips as she waits. She can't even begin to figure out what he's up to.

Dean's face breaks out in a smile.

"What?" she fires out, impatience seeping in.

"Nothing. I just… it's good to hear you say that," Dean tells her.

"Say… what, Hot Shot?" she questions.

"It's been a really long time since you've called me that," he explains away. "I didn't realize how much I missed it."

She stares at him with a serious, downward angled face. "When did you grow a vag?"

"Shut up," Dean brushes off the comment while secretly excited to hear her call him a name _jokingly_, not seriously. "Alright, so… you want everything put into the past, right?"

"Definitely…."

"And we just talked a lot of it out," Dean says to her. "Which was good. I think it was a good start."

"It was," Lizzy nods and agrees.

"But I know you," Dean reminds her. "And I know you're still pissed off."

She rolls her eyes hard. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"We got the truth out about everything out, we said our apologies and accepted them… and all that's left is the anger."

"I don't have any anger." It sounds like an obvious lie to even her. When Dean just looks at her knowingly like he always does when she's caught lying she sighs. "Fine, I'm still a little angry. But I can't help that."

"Oh, I'm not saying you shouldn't be angry," Dean says, taking one small step forward. "You should be downright pissed."

Lizzy just wrinkles her brow at him, not sure where he's headed still.

"But I don't want that to stand in the way and ruin all this work we're putting in. I'm done with crap coming between us."

"Me too," she honestly responds.

"Good." He grins warmly at her before waving her towards him with a gesture from one hand. "Now, come at me."

Lizzy's back straightens a little taller with the direction. "What?"

"Come on. Take it out on me," Dean tells her.

She laughs. "Hell no."

"Why not? You've kicked my ass before…."

"And you _know_ I can do it again," she warns, pointing at him.

"That's the point!"

"Why!?" Lizzy asks, lost. "What good will that do? Giving you a black eye isn't going to solve our marital issues."

"It can't hurt."

"It'll definitely hurt," she laughs at him.

"Fair enough… but I can't live with this guilt," Dean tells her. "This shit has been eating me alive, ok? I want it over with and you need to take your anger out. So… do it."

"Dean…."

"You're not gonna do it, are you?" he realizes right away.

"Of course not!" she immediately answers. "I mean, talk about dysfunctional…."

"We're not dysfunctional," Dean gets upset with that comment.

"We're certainly not normal," she counters, sure of it.

"And normal people don't live our lives. We ain't them."

Lizzy sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. "No. Dean, no."

"Are you afraid?" he tries a new tactic.

"Of you, hell no," she laughs, knowing that even after having a child she could easily hold her own with him.

"No, not of me," Dean even tells her, ready to poke the bear. Hands at his sides, he stares right at her. "Of _her_."

"Her who?" Lizzy wonders, confused.

"The Amazon… Lydia."

She starts to see red, her shoulders rising instantly. "Her name was Lydia?"

"Yep. Lydia," Dean tells Lizzy with a breezy tone. "And she got exactly what she wanted from me."

He watches her jaw tense up. This new tactic is already working.

"She took me to that hotel and she used me like some cheap, easy lay," Dean admits. "And she loved it."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Lizzy asks, the pain of it all coming back as he speaks. This is exactly the pain she's been trying to avoid all along.

"That's exactly what you should be asking me," he says, liking that she's falling right into it. "Because there's clearly something wrong with me. I just let her lead me right to bed, no resistance at all."

She grits her teeth and her fingers flex before curling into fists. He's got her.

"You and I hadn't been together like that in… months," he keeps it up. "I almost forgot what it felt like to touch you, to be touched by you…."

"_Dean_…."

"And she was so soft and warm… and curvy, just like you," Dean spills while ignoring her warning, starting to see this as a confessional of sorts. Get it all out there, that's what she wanted. "She may not have felt totally right… but she felt _so good_."

"I don't want to hear this," she interjects, the edge in her voice very sharp.

"I enjoyed myself," Dean's tone lowering to the gravelly place he uses when alone with her. "God, she _tasted_ just like you. And she moved… mm, every move her body made was pure sex."

"_I don't want to hear this_," Lizzy repeats as she steps closer to him.

"Like it was all for me," he tells her. "For the first time in so long I felt good and wanted… and she fucked me like I've…."

"Cut the shit!" Lizzy yells at him and steps right up in front of him, shoving him square in the chest.

"…Never seen you fuck me before." He finishes the statement anyways, twisting the knife a little deeper.

The hand that comes across his face is sudden and neither expected it. The second the sharp sound hits their ears they both pause, Lizzy with horror as her hands cover over her mouth in shock for her actions and Dean with his head reeled to the side as his brain catches up. He got her going and she slapped him. The open shape of her hand immediately starts to color in on his face, the red an angry shade.

"Shit," Lizzy steps back a bit, shocked that she let him get to her so easily. "I didn't want to do that."

"Yes you did," Dean tells her with absolute certainty, straightening up and looking at her. He acts like his skin isn't lit up with pain but it is.

"No…."

"And I wanted you to," Dean keeps going. "Clearly I was right. You're hanging on to that anger like a nerd with a lightsaber at Comic Con."

"I'm only mad because you brought it all up again!" she fights back, highly upset.

"Exactly! It's in there and I just proved it!" He steps right up in front of her again, asking for it. "I want that anger gone. You're just gonna keep it in there and bury it…."

"I wonder where I might have picked up that little coping mechanism from, hm?" Lizzy fires back and steps back away again, not wanting to hit him more.

"That's fair. I definitely do that… but you don't. You can't. That doesn't work for you."

"Doesn't work for you either, idiot," Lizzy snaps with a childlike voice.

"L, I'm not letting my mistake do that to you, eat at you like that. Now, come on. Get it out." He gestures for her to come at him again.

"This was such a nice day so far…."

"She took control," he tosses in quickly, still stirring the pot. "She played me like I was her instrument. And she was good. Really good."

"Stop trying to make it worse!" she shouts at him, his mouth an ever running river of confessional shit she never wanted to know.

"Maybe I should have known from that alone," Dean's mouth continues as he steps right up against her, giving her no choice. "You don't take control like that usually…."

"Fuck you!" Lizzy screams at him from somewhere deep and dark that she rarely lets herself have access to. The shove he gets in the chest sends him back, stumbling over his own feet. "What the fuck is wrong with you!? I don't want to hear this shit!"

"Well, too bad!" he yells right back, standing up tall once again. "It happened. And it was good. I mean, ha… _really_ good…."

With a clamped jaw, raised shoulders, and fire in her eyes Lizzy gives him what he wants. She charges him like a crazed bull, her shoulder ramming into his stomach as she grabs him around the waist. Knocking him down, Dean lands on his back hard, the wind partially knocked out of him with the severity of the collision. As he gasps a bit to catch his breath, Lizzy is scrambling onto him.

"I've always been good to you!" she tells him with pure fury and she straddles his form, Dean not fighting back at all as he's struggling to breathe. For a quick flash he thinks this was a bad plan. He forgot how severe her anger problem was. She's had a handle on it for some time now.

Not today.

"I have been a fucking saint!" she keeps going, grabbing the collar of the t-shirt he's wearing. She leans down nose to nose with him, getting angrier by the second. "Even when you ran from me when you made a deal for your life and you never told me why, I still took you back… I always trusted you. _Always_. And you fucked that up!"

She pulls the shirt and lifts his back a little before slamming him back down onto the hardwood floor. She hears him groan with pain but she couldn't care. He asked for this, didn't he?

"Everyone told me I couldn't trust you. They tried to tell me what you were like and that you'd cheat on me," she says, sitting up tall with balled fists. "I told them they were crazy, that you were better than that. You had to go and prove them right, didn't you!?"

"I thought it was you," Dean continues, knowing this defense is useless. He knows she's going to hit him, he can feel it, but he doesn't do a thing to block it. He knows he deserves this to an extent. He had the guilt to prove it. He needs it to go away and if she can beat it out of him and they can let it finally go then so be it.

And just as he thought, a fist collides with his cheek.

"Ugh… mm!" Dean reacts, his head once more reeled to the side. He slams his eyes shut, looking to make it past the pain. She's fucking strong, maybe stronger than ever, and he has to slam his fists into the floor at either side of him to control his reflexes. He will _not_ fight back.

"You should have known it wasn't me!" she shouts in return. She should be reacting with horror over the punch she's just thrown but she doesn't. Instead she punches him again, her fist landing just slightly under the previous one.

She can hear Dean's pained groan but she doesn't register it. She just lets her anger flow through her veins like he wanted.

Grabbing his face with her left hand to give her right a break, her fingernails dig into his jaw as she yanks his face towards her, his eyes squeezed tight with pain. "Look at me!"

Blinking his eyes, Dean focuses on her above him.

"I didn't deserve this," she tells him darkly. "All your drinking and carrying every fucking burden and hypocrital bullshit and damaged psyche… I have stood by you through everything! And this is what I get!? You can't tell the difference between a monster and your own wife!?"

"I should have known." His voice comes out painfully, his face hurting but his heart hurting far more still.

"You're damn right you should have known," she spits back, bringing her face down close to his. "So tell me, Dean… was she worth it?"

He shakes his head no, an internal pain radiation through his eyes.

"Was she!?" Lizzy asks again, wanting a verbal answer as she shoves him again.

"No," he barely gets out, her intimidation working on him.

"Was she better than me?" she asks him, a sudden hushed sob deep in her throat at her inner fear that she lets out. "Did she fuck you better than I do?"

The sudden break in ire, the sadness behind the melting anger, lets him know she's absolutely torn by this. And the anger is gone, leaving behind just the insecurity and sadness she has left in her.

"God, no," Dean tells her quickly before lifting his head without warning. He smashes his lips against hers, the kiss hard and fast and nothing she was ready for.

But she doesn't pull away from him. No, instead she uses both hands to clutch to his face and pull him up until he's sitting on the floor, Lizzy still straddling his lap. She tries to devour him, make her mark on him and remind him that he's hers. All hers. Always.

Her tongue sweeps into his mouth and claims him. She always knew she had a jealousy in her concerning Dean. She'd never felt true jealousy before she met him but once she was hooked she needed him. She wants to be the only one that gets him too. It's possessive and weak, she knows, but he's her one true weakness in her life. Lou always told her that and Lou's always been right.

Moving with urgency, Lizzy grabs his t-shirt and yanks it over his head, panting with the fight paired with her adrenaline pumping hard. Her hands grab at his shoulders and pull him back into her. His mouth automatically finds hers, the two melding together with frantic, driven moves. Dean pulls at her bra, trying to get his mind to remember how to open one of these things. He's all over the place mentally.

"Tell me it's only me," Lizzy says to him, reaching behind herself to open it for him. Bra unlatched, Dean grabs the front of it and jerks it away from her, taking it off in one pull. He then practically bowls her over, pushing her onto her back on the bearskin rug and covering her body with his, his face in her neck. "Right now, say you only want me."

"It's only ever been you, L," Dean says into her skin, kissing her and letting his teeth graze her skin while he reaches blindly for her panties. "You're the only one I've ever wanted."

"You need me," Lizzy tells him as he slides her underwear down, knowing how true it is. Without her he's a total mess. "Tell me you need me."

"I need you," Dean tells her completely seriously, backing away to pull her clothing off. He then takes his own underwear off in a scramble as Lizzy leans up on her hands to kiss him again.

"You'd be a mess without me," Lizzy tells him between frenzied kisses, the two barely apart for more than the time it takes to speak. Dean leans over her again and gets her on her back as her nails scrap his scalp. "Wouldn't you?"

"A total fucking mess," he responds quickly, wrapping her legs around his waist hastily.

"Holy shit," Lizzy huffs out, exhausted by everything. She kisses his cheek once before sitting up on top of him, never separating from him. She looks down and shares a slight smile, one that disappears the second she sees his face. "Dean, oh crap," she shocks out as she runs her fingertips down his swollen and red skin on his cheek. "Oh my god, this looks bad."

"I'll survive," he assures her as he pulls her hand gently away from his face, kissing her palm once before gripping it tightly in his. "I just hope this helped."

"It would have been healthier to go to therapy," she says with disbelief over all that just happened.

"This was cheaper and quicker than going to some head shrinker," Dean tells her, his free hand skimming over her thigh up and down repeatedly. "You better?'

"Uh, shockingly… yeah," Lizzy admits and she cups his unhurt cheek. "I feel a lot better."

"So I was right?" Dean smirks.

"You know I won't admit to that," she tells him and he just laughs a little.

"Are we good?" Dean asks her. "Like, you trust me and this is it? You won't cling to any bad shit anymore?"

"We're good," she nods, thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. "We're really good."

"Good," he answers back before reaching up for the chain around her neck. He yanks it off with one hard tug, breaking the necklace.

"What the hell?" Lizzy asks, not mad but simply confused as she watches him pull the rings off the chain. She starts to smile when it clicks.

"You don't need it anymore," he explains as he drops the chain on the floor without care. Dean then lifts her left hand and slides the rings back onto her finger where they're supposed to be. "They belong here anyways."

She smiles wide at that. "So I kick your ass and you do something sweet? That's how this goes?"

"Guess so," he nods, pulling her down by the back of her head and kissing her again, telling her everything she needs to know with just that.


	61. Advanced Placement

**Last chapter! I hope you all enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing for all of you! On to the next soon enough, just need to finish it up. Don't forget to put me as an author on your alerts you you'll be notified the second I start to publish the next story!**

* * *

"Mm, I'm tired," Lizzy comments as she curls up into Dean's side in bed, all while holding an ice pack to his cheek for the third time that day.

"You should be," Dean tells her easily, relaxed. "We've been busy."

"Yeah… and it was a _good_ busy for once," Lizzy smiles at him, once more wearing his flannel shirt and nothing much else.

He just smirks back and kisses her. "You wanna get some sleep?"

"I do… but it'll probably be like last night."

"What's that mean?"

"Couldn't sleep for a long time," she tells him sadly, resting her head on his shoulder. "I just miss Sammy. Feels like it's been forever since I saw him."

"I know," Dean nods. "But one more day. Think you can hack it with just me?"

"I'll manage," Lizzy huffs a laugh, taking the ice pack off his cheek. She gives it a good once over. "Looks pretty good. It's not really all that swollen."

"You punch like a girl."

The face he gets in return is a dangerous one.

"A hunter girl."

"Better…."

"That could kill me with her bare hands and _will_ if I keep talking...?"

"There it is," she tells him and lays back down, ice tossed onto the nightstand.

"We'll see him soon, L," Dean reminds her and pulls her in tight, never wanting to let her go again. "Just get some sleep for once in your life."

* * *

When the person next to her in bed moves she starts to stir in her sleep a bit. But this bed is damn comfortable and no one is crying. Screw it. She's going to ignore it. This is a rare and elusive sleep-in day. How lovely!

And then someone grabs her nose, the fingers around it tiny and not at all threatening, more like curious or playful. Her heart leaps in her chest. She knows who that is without sight or sound.

Eyes blinking open quickly, Lizzy focuses on the smiling face next to her. Bright green-blue (but more green than anything these days) eyes lit up with the morning sun stare at her as a sound of excitement is made, something like a squeal with babbling following it up.

"Oh, my little guy!" Lizzy cheers loudly right away to see her son there, his little form sandwiched between her and Dean on his stomach. She immediately picks him up under his arms and lifts him over her head as she rolls onto her back. "Good morning, sweetie!"

"What the hell?" Dean quietly asks as he wakes up with her voice, looking over to find his wife and son together next to him. "Sammy?"

"Oh, I missed you," she tells her son, ignoring Dean.

"How'd he get here?"

"I don't know," Lizzy says and pulls Sammy down to kiss his chubby cheek. "I don't care," she keeps going, kissing his forehead before hugging him in tightly with a hand to the back of his ever-filling-out head of fluffy, dark hair. "It's so good to see you, little man."

Dean watches as Sammy's face is pressed against his wife's, squishing his cheek and nose and Dean has to smile. "Hey, dude," he greets and reaches out while on his side. Sammy grabs his index finger quickly when it's offered as is habit before letting go, instead reaching an outstretched hand to him.

"Da. Da. Da." His voice is loud and certain with his sounds, knowing that specific noise he makes means Dean, his daddy. Sammy starts to crawl over the blankets away from his mom in order to see his dad.

Smiling wider than he has in ages, Dean sits up, letting his so active and so damn big son make his way quickly to him. "Music to my ears, Sammy-boy." He picks up the little boy and pulls him in close once he sits up, blowing a long raspberry to his cheek.

As Sammy looks at Lizzy while he bursts out a little, overjoyed laugh, Lizzy's done for. This is all she's ever dreamed of. Her family, small and sweet and stronger than ever, all together and able to smile. They're happy as a unit. How could they have ever thought otherwise?

"Oh, that's funny to you?" Dean asks accusingly before giving him another raspberry to the cheek, Sammy screeching with laughter. "This is what you think is funny?" Another raspberry while Sammy puts his hands on Dean's cheeks. "Well get comfortable buddy," he tells Sammy and picks up the kid to look him in the eye. With wide, goofy eyes Dean tells him, "Because I can do this all day long."

With that he lays Sammy on his back and pulls up the blue shirt he's wearing to give him an even bigger raspberry on his tummy. Sammy just giggles uncontrollably, his legs in the air as he grabs Dean's hair with the assault.

And Lizzy sits by and laughs. It's a real, honest laugh that only a moment like this could make. It's too cute, too beautiful, and too much after everything.

The hope in her heart during a moment like this is massive for them. They can absolutely do this.

"Dean, let him breathe," Lizzy laughs out as she can see her son in a fit. "He's gonna turn blue soon."

Dean lets up and sits tall, looking down at Sammy on the blanket as he calms his fit of laughter. He's so big. "Nine damn months old… doesn't seem right."

"Because it isn't," she says lightly, not upset in the least that he's wrong about their son's age. "He's ten months in a few days."

"Wait… crap, it's December," Dean remembers, disappointed in himself.

"Sure is," she laughs at him a little. "Christmas is in a few days."

Hanging his head with a sigh, he admits to her, "I was gonna forget."

"I figured," she nods lightly, a hand on her son's belly and rubbing it affectionately. "I was gonna call and give you the heads up the day Cass woke up. I didn't get around to it."

"Well I'm here now," Dean tells her. "We get back, we scoop up Cass, head to the house, and spend some time there. Do Christmas right."

"We can't do that," Lizzy tells him, thinking he's nuts.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll be stealing a patient. They'll come looking for me," she says obviously.

"Right," Dean nods. "So… we run and so Christmas at Rufus' cabin."

"_That_ I can do," Lizzy nods quickly.

Dean smiles and looks back to Sammy. "He's almost a year."

"It went by so fast," she agrees with him, leaning her shoulder into his. "And did you notice the eyes?"

"They're, like, all green now," Dean says, looking at her with surprise.

"Just like his handsome daddy," she smirks and kisses him on the lips, the domesticity of the moment that of hunter dreams.

"Damn straight," Dean says, pulling her cheek in and kissing her a little deeper, still running on this make-up high.

"Ma-ma!" Sammy yells out and interrupts their kiss. "Ma!" Sammy tries again and sits up, crawling into her lap as usual.

"Hi, honey," she smiles and helps him get up on his feet, standing on the comforter with his hands on her shoulder. "It looks like we get to hang out today. What do you think?" She holds her hands out palms up and makes a happy face.

Sammy just smiles and presses his face into her shoulder.

"Yeah, I like it too," she tells him and kisses his head. "Only problem is we have no toys, no diapers, no food…."

"You might be wrong about that," Dean says and points across the cabin. Sitting on the floor by the refrigerator is a pile of things; a box of diapers, Sammy's baby bag with supplies, some baby food, and another bag that looks overflowing with toys. "He may be a little off his rocker right now but Cass is thinking ahead."

"Oh, that Uncle Cass loves you, buddy," Lizzy lights up and picks up Sammy, pulling him into her side. She gets out of bed and makes her way to the pile with him. "We're gonna have to give him a big thank you later, huh?"

As Lizzy rifles through the pile and Dean pulls on some jeans to join them, Castiel stands in the kitchen unseen. He heard her loud and clear, or really he felt her, while on her little honeymoon redo. He's noticed how strong his and Elizabeth's connection has become once he woke up in the institution. Castiel's unburdened by purpose and conflict now and the channel to her is clearer than it's been since she was a kid.

She is happy finally. She is in love all over again. But she was sad still, missing the other man in her life. Castiel wanted her happy as she is his caretaker, the only one that never failed to be there for him after he took on Lucifer's burden.

And Dean never gets to see Samuel. They need time together as Dean, despite all his flaws, is a wonderful example for the child. With Dean to influence him along with Lizzy and Sam and Lou, Castiel doesn't doubt for a second that Samuel will end up a wonderful human being.

Smiling as he can feel the love around him, Castiel leaves. He'll be back in one more day.

* * *

An empty pizza box accompanied by a couple empty baby food jars on the kitchen table, a fire in the stone fireplace, and toys all over the bearskin rug, it's been a quiet and lovely day inside the cabin. There was nothing left to sort out, no hostility to get in the way. Just enjoyment and quiet and family.

"I think he likes Yogi," Lizzy jokes from the floor as she sits between Dean knees while he's sitting on the couch.

They watch Sammy poke and investigate the bearskin rug's head, fascination and concentration all over his face. He hasn't moved in five minutes.

"I figured it'd scare him," Lizzy says with a smile, looking behind her at Dean.

"Sammy? Scared?" Dean scoffs at the idea. "He's not afraid of anything."

"Actually, he is," Lizzy laughs. "He cries with the vacuum every time I turn it on."

"Seriously?" Dean questions, disappointed.

"Yep. And he hates the neighbor's dog. Scares the shit out of him."

"Some dogs are scary…."

"It's a Shitzu," she lets him know. "It's, like, ten pounds."

"Ankle biters can be vicious," he rebuts her completely. "Sharp teeth and short man syndrome. Bad combo."

Lizzy nods, considering it. "I'm just saying, he's not a hardened hunter. Just a toddler. A _cute_ toddler." She grins wide when she observes Sammy try to get his drooly mouth around the nose of the bear's face.

"And he'll stay that way," Dean says, certain that he'll never let his son become what he is.

"Aw, no he won't! He's growing so fast it sucks," Lizzy laments very heavily.

"You know I meant he'll be just a kid. Just a person, not a hunter," Dean clarifies.

"I know," Lizzy answers nervously. "I just… I've seen what can happen to him. That last reality… his life…." She shakes her head with the horrid memories. "I can't handle that being where this all goes."

Dean slides off the couch and onto the floor next to her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him as they watch Sammy. "I'm sorry you went through all that alone."

"You couldn't help that."

He's so saddened. His dying, Sammy being born without a dad, her fighting her whole life to give him a good upbringing, and his son's demise and damnation along with her due to no fault of her own… _twice_. "Hey. I'm here. We got this, momma."

She turns her head and smiles at him, wanting to believe him so badly. "I hope you're right."

"I am right. You know why?"

"Why?"

He leans in and kisses her lips once. "Because who's more badass than you?"

She makes a funny face while smirking. "Uh… you?" She laughs.

"No freakin' way," Dean denies her, leaning back into the foot of the couch and pulling her into his side, settling there as they watch their young son play without a care. "You make me look like a wimpy little girl almost daily."

"Daily, huh?" she smiles lightly, getting comfortable right where she is.

"L, you're stronger than me at every turn," Dean tells her, looking right at her. "You've always been stronger than all of us. That's why your Sammy's mom."

Lizzy smiles proudly at that, sitting next to him with her head on his shoulder. Her eyes follow Sammy, watching him just simply be happy and sweet, and she can't believe she almost lost all this.

She will never lose any of it ever again, come hell or high water. Lizzy will make sure of that.

"I'm just glad you don't remember Hell," Dean comments, thinking it all over again.

"Me too," Lizzy agrees wholly. She returned from the last reality knowing she went to Hell to save Sam but she can't actually recall what Hell was like. "I think Cass blocked it… or took it away for me… something like that."

"You don't need that damage rolling around in your head, trust me," Dean comments as he keeps his eyes trained on Sammy.

"You still… think about that?" Lizzy wonders, grabbing his hand as it rests on her shoulder.

"Every day," he admits. "It's not something that will fade with time, L. It's Hell… and I was…."

"I know what you were," she quietly reminds him, saving him from speaking aloud the horrors of not only his thirty year damnation but his ten year turn as torturer while in the Pit. "But that wasn't you."

"It was me," Dean refuses to think otherwise. "I said yes. I knew what I was doing. I… I'll always have to deal with the fact that I enjoyed it. That'll follow me."

"Ok, so that _was_ you. I can't deny that. But that's not you now," Lizzy reminds him. "If you went down there now instead of years ago… you'd never get off that rack."

"How do you know?" Dean asks.

"Because being a father has changed you," Lizzy reminds him. "And you'd never let yourself become a demon, not with Sammy alive on Earth. Not when you could ever run the chance of running into him once you'd turned."

Dean nods absently, agreeing that he'd never say yes now. She's completely right.

He huffs a quiet laugh to himself and she hears it. Lizzy looks to him and asks, "What?"

Dean watches Sammy crawl around the fur rug, happy and healthy and perfect, before he looks at her. He tightens his arm around her a little. "When we were younger, during some blow out fight about dad and hunting when Sam was a teen, he told me I'd never have this."

"Have what?" Lizzy wonders.

"You, a family… a kid," Dean tells her. "He was mad at dad again and fighting about wanting to get out of hunting… and I reminded him that what we do is important and we need to help people. And then he told me that was exactly why I'd never get out."

Dean thinks back on that day. It was weeks before Sam announced he was splitting for Stanford. He already knew he was going. Sam was trying so hard to get Dean to want more for himself too, to get him out of the life, but Dean wasn't hearing it.

"I knew he was right," Dean further explains. "I knew that sticking with dad… I would never leave hunting. I would never have a house, have kids, a wife… and it didn't bother me all that much. I mean, sure, deep down I wanted that. But not enough to let people die. Not enough to leave it all behind me."

Lizzy doesn't speak, just allows Dean to let out his thoughts.

"But now… I can't imagine my life without you in it," Dean tells her, finally looking right at her. "Without Sammy in it. It's rare that Sam's wrong… but I'm really glad he was dead wrong about this one."

"Me too," Lizzy smiles warmly, kissing his lips once.

"I still just can't get over the fact that there's a chick dumb enough to have a kid with me."

She gives him a look of warning.

"Hey, you're still outta your friggin' mind for wanting to be with me," Dean half laughs.

"No I'm not," Lizzy denies without anger as she leans her cheek onto his shoulder. "For every bad thing you see in yourself I see at least two beautiful things. I'd be crazy to _not_ want to be with you."

"Those rose colored glasses you're wearing are serving me well," Dean jokes.

"I like looking at the world in the shade of pink," she rebuts jokingly. "And even though I know you'll never see it, you're a good man. I see it. Sammy sees it."

"Yeah…." Dean trails off, clearly still thinking she's wrong as he leans his cheek onto her head. They silently watch Sammy crawl about sluggishly, the big afternoon of eating and getting far too much attention from his parents finally wearing him out.

"He's going down," Lizzy says, seeing the droopy eyelids on her son as he pauses mid crawl, head bobbing once as he almost face-plants asleep.

"Should I grab him before he passes out right there?" Dean wonders as Sammy lays himself down onto the rug on his stomach, giving up where he is. He balls up a little fist into the fur and is out almost immediately.

"Nah, let him stay there," Lizzy tells him, watching Sammy's face slacken and relax. "He's had a long day. He missed his first nap so he's cooked."

"We kept him up through nap number one?"

"Oh yeah. He's crashing hard," Lizzy says before smiling. "I love when he's just sleeping."

Dean smirks a little, getting exactly what that means. Their boy is resting and comfortable. He's content. "Did you ever, in a million fucking years, think you'd ever love anything as much as you love that kid?"

Lizzy grins and swallows down the lump in her throat at the question. She moves around a bit, pulling a blanket from the couch over Dean and herself, cuddling into his side as they watch Sammy sleep. "I never even thought it was possible."

Dean pulls her in, kisses her temple once, and tells her, "Yeah. Me neither."

* * *

Fully dressed and showered, Sammy fed and new diaper on, Lizzy and Dean have all his things packed up and ready to go by the time Castiel returns.

The familiar flapping of wings make Lizzy smile as she turns around from where she stands in the kitchen. She finds Castiel standing on the bear rug, Sammy already in his hold instead of playing on the floor like he had been.

"I don't believe you can actually eat this, young man," Castiel says to the baby as he's perched on his hip. He takes the plastic key out of his mouth before looking at the multicolored key ring. "I feel your father may have been the one to buy you this toy."

"Hey, Cassie," Lizzy grins kindly as she walks to him. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you as well, Elizabeth," Castiel smiles awkwardly back at her. "How are you?"

Smiling wide, Lizzy answers easily. "I'm excellent."

The angel grins at the floor. "Yes, well… I'm just comfortable knowing that you're happy again. I didn't like seeing you so sad. It just didn't feel right."

"No it didn't," Lizzy agrees. "I owe you so much, Cass."

"No you don't," he tells her, using the ring of five plastic keys to play with Sammy, his little hands reaching out for the toy. "You deserve a good, happy life. So does this child. I'm only happy to help."

He's so honest and sweet, this version of Castiel. Sure, he might be a little broken, but his breaking has separated him from all that keeps him troubled. For the first time in his hundreds of years of existence, Castiel might actually be unburdened. He has a lot to make up for, he may have ended the damn world, but is he any worse than his brothers and sisters out there?

Considering he seems to feel and have a heart these days, Lizzy can only see him as a better version of himself.

"Cass!" they both hear as Dean walks out of the bathroom to find the angel there. "Come to bring us back to reality?"

"Yes, Dean. I have," Castiel responds as he watches the hunter, his gate more relaxed for the first time in far too long. "I think it's time you resume life. And I think I may need to recharge after this."

Dean's eyes slide to Lizzy, smirking after a solid three days of apologies, reacquainting, and rekindling. Neither of them will ever forget this time they were given by one of the very best friends they've ever had.

"I agree," Dean nods, fully refreshed after the time alone with his family. "Time to go figure out what the hell that tablet is, huh?"

* * *

**Back to Reality… Before Castiel's Meddling**

"Sam, will you please pick up the Word of God?" Dean says over his shoulder as he leaves the room in the institution, Lizzy leading the way to the rec room in order to find Castiel after he just fled the room over not liking conflict.

"Yeah…" Sam says absently to mostly himself, already stooping to the floor to bag up the pieces of broken tablet up. Of course broken headed Castiel would break the Word of God. "What the hell…?"

Sam starts to collect the pieces once Lizzy and Dean are gone to retrieve the scattered angel and he places them carefully into the duffle bag they brought it in, suddenly moving more gingerly than before. This is a highly important item now that he knows what it is.

"What are you guys caught up in?" Lou questions as she stands by adjusting Sammy on her hip. She looks at Sam on the floor with narrowed eyes as she already knows she's missing out on what the hell is happening with them. Heavenly tablets? She's been off of hunting for too long now.

"Uh," Sam stalls as he packs up the tablet pieces and zips up the bag. "It's… complicated."

"When is it not?" Lou jokes lightly. Sam just shares an awkward smile and doesn't respond. "I deserve to know what's going on, Giant."

"I know you do," Sam tells her. "It's just… like I said, complicated."

"Well, guess what, big guy. I got all the time in the world," Lou reminds him, walking closer to Sam. "I've been out of the game for too long and it sucks."

"Meaning?" Sam asks her, standing up and leaving the bag there for now.

"I want in. I want to know what's going on with you and what's coming," she explains. "I know the Leviathan. I know what they can do first hand. So… duh! Put me in, coach."

"What about Sammy?" Sam counters, knowing someone has to be there for him.

"What the hell about him?" she gets angry, still holding the object of her frustration. "_I_ never had a kid. _I'm_ not a mom. I'm tired of having to be a mom. Why is everyone assuming he's my responsibility?" She begins bouncing Sammy on her hip as he fusses slightly, absently caring for him even as she complains about having to care for him.

"He's not your _burden_, Lou," Sam says, surprised by her. "You love him. He's family."

"The Winchester fix-all answer," Lou rolls her eyes. She then smells something she's smelled far too many times before. She lifts Sammy up and takes a whiff. "Great. Right when his actual parents are gone. I gotta grab his bag from my car."

Lou marches out of the room, fuming with her situation, and Sam doesn't like how it's left.

"Hey," he calls after her. "Lou, stop."

"Can't hear you over the parental duties that have been forced upon me." She keeps walking swiftly down the hall.

Sam runs ahead of her and stands in her way, stopping her. "You know, sometimes just taking a second to talk to me would actually do more good than fleeing."

She just stares up at him with anger for being called out for her swift and stubborn ways.

"You're pissed with how you got stuck in the spot you're in, I get that," Sam tells her, nodding. "You're a hunter. You want to be out there."

"I can help. I know the Leviathan better than anyone on this entire planet."

"You're right," Sam concedes easily. "And maybe, instead of focus in on how helpful you'd be with fighting the Levis, we all just assumed you'd take the caretaker role you're in because you love Sammy and your sister so much."

"Of course I do," Lou answers obviously.

"It was wrong to just assume you'd be alright with all this," Sam admits. "I can see that now."

Lou sighs. "I would never leave Lizzy alone with a kid on her own."

"I know that." Sam smiles just slightly as she's a good person. "And you know Dean and I are really thankful for the sacrifices you've made for Sammy."

She smiles slightly for the recognition. "And I get that's why you all just kind of figured I'd slip into this role," Lou admits, pulling Sammy tighter as he starts to play with her long, box-red hair. "I love my sister and I love Sammy to death, you're right. But, after everything… after Purgatory… this isn't where I belong. At least not at this point in my life." It feels too damn good to let that out for once. "I belong out there. With you. Fighting. Killing. I came back with far too much ability to be shoved away in some domestic situation. That's not me."

Sam's face drops to something she can't read as he considers her words. "It's not you right now? Or not you ever again?"

She shrugs, knowing the answer he actually wants but she doesn't want to lie to him. She'll never lie about what she wants in life and in the future… if they have one. "Not right now. That's all I know for sure. I'm just… I'm itchy. I need to get out there."

"Understandable," Sam nods.

Lou smiles slightly, happy to finally have been heard about all this. She's dying sitting in one place, the same boring crap day in and day out. She needs to see some action.

Sam sighs heavily. "It would be great if Dean and Lizzy could just pull their heads out of their asses. Dean could stay here while you head out with me."

"That'd be so awesome," she says back with emphasis, pulling a lock of her hair out of Sammy's grip when he pulls a little too much.

"Maybe we need to float the idea to them," Sam puts out there and he helps pry the little fingers open for her. He then runs a light hand over Sammy's filling out hair. "Dean keeps saying he needs more time with Sammy and I think he and Lizzy need to iron out how all this is going to work now that they're done… or whatever."

"And I sure as hell don't want anything to do with that conversation." Lou's eyes widen with the massive weight of the couple's drama.

"Oh god, neither do I," Sam wrinkles his face with distaste. "But… if when it's time to head out we just head out the two of us… then we won't be around when they sort through all their crap."

"They'll be forced to work it out alone and not whine to us," Lou nods excitedly, getting where he's going with this. "Good idea, Giant…."

They both hear a suspicious noise back in Castiel's room. Someone's in there.

"What was that?" Lou asks, both hunters with wide eyes looking at each other. Without a word, they take off for the room in a panicked rush as they left the Word of God behind.

When they get there the room is empty… and the duffle bag is gone.

"What the hell!?" Sam panics when he realizes the Word of God is gone.

"Where is it!?" Lou shouts, the alarm shared. Without thinking she walks to the playpen and places Sammy into it. "Sit tight, honey."

"We're just gonna leave him here?" Sam worries, not at all cool with this.

"What choice do we have?" Lou asks. "There's security all over the place. Lizzy protected the room. And the playpen has a devil's trap painted on the bottom and a salt line glued around the edges of the padding."

Sam looks at her with surprise. "It does?"

Lou reaches in and lists the padding at the bottom of the pen. Sam can see some of the trap under it drawn in thick black marker. "I'm brilliant, remember?"

Sam makes a face to show he agrees. She is brilliant.

"Come on." She runs for the door and gets stopped on her way by Sam grabbing her arm. "What?"

"Here," he offers, pulling an angel blade from the inside of his brown jacket and handing it over.

"Thanks," she grins, excited just to hold a weapon again. She looks over the gleaming metal. "Sweet."

They rush out of the room and cover the floor they're on first, looking into each room one at a time. They confused a lot of mentally unstable people and worked a few up but at least they were safe.

On their way down to the next floor, Lou looks out the window on one of the staircase landings. "Hey!" she calls to Sam. He looks up at her and backtracks up the steps he already flew down. He looks out the window with her. "That's pretty weird, right?"

They watch as a teenage kid slinks across the courtyard, their duffle bag in his tight grip, hugging it protectively to his chest.

"Shit," Sam complains and heads down the couple flights they have left rapidly, Lou behind him as her legs just aren't as long. They both burst out the bottom level door and head into the courtyard, Sam immediately yelling to the kid, "Hey!"

The reaction to the deep voice calling to him is for the teenager to take off, running fast and furious.

"Damn it," Sam complains and starts sprinting after him. "Hey!"

"No!" the sound of a very young voice calls out. "Leave me alone!"

The chase is nothing short of a sad Benny Hill episode in Lou's eyes as she watches calmly. Instead of run right for the squirrely, oddly quick kid, Lou thinks twice. She watches the pattern play out, the young man wisely zig-zagging around the yard in a sharp path that makes it hard for the big hunter to keep up, and she takes a calm guess as to what his next move will be.

She guesses right.

As the teenager looks behind him at the large, scary man running after him, he completely misses the woman with her arm out ready for him just ahead.

Without even having to move all that much, Lou calmly clotheslines the kid and sends him hard on his back.

Not missing a beat, Lou pulls out a flask and pops it open. She splashes the kid's face with it. Nothing happens. "Not a demon."

"A what!?" the kid panics as he lays on his back looking up at her. Sam catches up and stands with Lou, looking down on the teen with an impossibly tight grip on their bag.

"What are you?" Sam asks, huffing to catch his breath.

"I'm Kevin Tran," he tells them with a frightened and cagey voice, eyes glued to the gleaming blade in Lou's hand. "I'm in advanced placement."

"What, you're just a high school kid?" Lou asks with shock, hands on her hips as she and Sam continue to look down at the kid on the grass. "Yeah, right."

"P-please don't kill me," Kevin begs when his fears grow too big.

Sam sighs. "We're not gonna kill you," he tells Kevin as he reaches down and pulls him onto his feet by the upper arm. He then grabs the duffle bag he's still clutching and pulls… but Kevin doesn't let his tight grip go. Sam pulls again and Kevin comes stumbling forward a bit with the bag.

"I… I'm sorry," Kevin says to Sam, the huge man trying one more unsuccessful time to take the bag away. "I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know why, but I can't let go of this."

Lou blows out a breath and looks at Sam. "Well this is a new one." She then turns to Kevin. "Alright, brainiac, you can stay attached to that bag all you want but since we need it too, you're coming with us…."

* * *

"Come on," Sam says to Kevin as he pulls him by the upper arm into Castiel's hospital room. "Sit down."

"Shit! Where's Sammy!?" Lou panics all at once when she enters the small room and sees the empty playpen in the corner. Her nephew is gone.

With the sound of flapping wings they all turn to the doorway to find Castiel standing there with Lizzy and Dean.

"He's here," Castiel says, holding the baby on his hip as they all appear out of nowhere. Lou opens her mouth to ask why the hell they have Sammy but she gets interrupted.

Kevin explodes in a fit of screams when he witnesses the sudden appearance of people out of thin air.

"Whoa! Hey, hey, hey!" Sam calls out to Kevin as he freaks right the hell out on the hospital bed he's on, arms still gripping tightly to the duffle with the tablet. "It's ok! Relax!"

The poor kid keeps screaming.

"Take a deep breath before I have to smack you, huh?!" Lou tells him, stepping closer to him and Kevin gets it. He calms his yelling and switches to taking very deep breaths when he doesn't want to get smacked by Lou. "There you go." Lou pats his shoulder when he stops screaming.

"Wh-what the hell is going on!?" Kevin asks very loudly with high confusion. "Where did they come from!?"

"Long story," Dean says with disbelief to see everyone at the institution just as they left them, not much time having passed just as Castiel said. It feels like a lifetime ago that he was here… or four lifetimes ago, really. He then looks to the new member in the room. "What is that?" he asks Sam, nodding at the kid.

"That's Kevin Tran," he answers with a tight lipped smile. "He's in advanced placement."

Dean just pauses and waits for more. He gets nothing. "Uh-huh… hey, is that ours?" he points to the duffle Kevin's clutching.

"Ah… yeah. He claims he can't let go of it," Sam catches them up.

"Ah, well… I know a way to make him," Dean comments, reaching behind his back to grab his gun. Lizzy quickly closes a hand over his wrist and stops him, giving a look that says back the fuck off.

"He's a kid, not a threat," she tells him after having looked the frightened young man over just once and Dean listens, replacing the weapon behind his back.

"So… what's your deal, kid?" Lou asks with crossed arms, concerned with the new kid that seems intent on keeping the tablet. "Do you even know what's in that bag?"

"I'm not sure," Kevin truthfully responds. "All I know is, this is… it's for me. I'm supposed to keep it."

"You don't even know what it is but it's for _you_?" Sam disbelieves. Kevin nods his head hard. "Alright then… open it."

Kevin opens the bag and looks in. His eyes widen when he looks at the three pieces of stone. He pulls one out and inspects it over for a moment. When he takes out another he sees that they're supposed to fit together, like puzzle pieces. He has an undeniable urge to put the stone back together so he does.

The second the two pieces are lined up correctly they fuse back together in his hands as if it never broke, a quick flash of white light along the seam.

"Well… shit," Lou whispers as they both watch Kevin put the third piece back into place. "Kid… what _are_ you?"

Everyone misses the pleasant smile on Castiel's face as he bounces Sammy on his hip, holding onto one of his hands as he walks around the group in the room.

Kevin ignores the odd question to instead look the very curious and clearly important tablet over. "It's writing."

"Yeah. Yeah, we get that," Sam tells him as much.

"What's… Leviathan?" Kevin wonders as he looks it all over.

"What?" Sam's ears perk up.

"You can _read_ it?" Lou questions with very wide eyes.

"Kinda…." Kevin says while still looking at the stone.

"Is that what it says?" Sam asks quickly, hope in his tone.

"Sort of. It hurts a little," Kevin admits as he keeps studiously looking over the ancient item. "Like looking through somebody else's glasses, but I think it... it's about Leviathan, how it came to be. God locked them up far away, right? Like in jail... because they're so..." It clearly dawns on Kevin right then. "They're... they're real, aren't they?"

"Yeah, Kev. They're real," Dean lets him know. "And they're roaming around out there. Does it say anything about how to kill them? 'Cause that's kinda been a problem."

"I don't know. It's not like _reading_ reading. It, it's hard to focus on it too long…."

"It isn't actual, common-language writing on that tablet so it makes sense that it would be a challenge for you," Castiel mentions as he slowly paces the room, looking only at Sammy as he makes funny faces at the baby. "You _are_ the only one alive that can read it."

Despite how Castiel says it, like it's obvious to all, everyone just looks at him as he continues to give Sammy a funny face. Sammy presses his open hand to Cass' mouth, the angel pretending to eat his hand when he does.

"What does _that_ mean?" Kevin asks, icy fear in his tone.

"It means there is no other in the world that can read that tablet," Castiel explains, looking over at Kevin. "At least not yet… not until you die."

"Die!?" Kevin starts to panic all over again.

"No one's dying!" Dean sternly tells the kid before he can freak out too hard. He then looks at Castiel. "What the hell does that mean, Cass? Who is this kid?"

The lights flicker suddenly, the air in the room disturbed by a quick gust of wind.

"He's a prophet of the Lord," the newly arrived female angel explains the moment she arrives, another male angel standing close behind her.

The second the presence of angels is known, Castiel holds Sammy in tighter, stepping back away from them and closer to Lizzy.

"Who, me!?" Kevin asks, the panic never once leaving his face since he arrived in this institution.

"Sole keeper of the word on earth, we are here to take you," the female angel says to Kevin, moving closer to him.

"What do you mean, 'take'?" he asks her.

It's then that the male angel notices Castiel in the room, handing over the Second Coming to his mother while trying to remain out of sight. The angel smiles. "Castiel?"

Once Sammy is out of his hold and with his mother, Dean standing in front of her with an already combative stance, Castiel smiles at the angel and walks closer to him. "Hi."

"You're alive?" the male angel asks, so happy to see his old friend.

"_You_," the female cuts off the reunion. The tone in her voice alone, all danger and fury, makes all the humans in the room stiffen with alarm.

"Hello, Hester," Castiel says with embarrassment, her anger in him clear and quite justified.

"You smote thousands in Heaven," her ire spits out of her, eyes boring angry holes into him. "You gave a big, scary speech. Then you were gone. What the hell was that?!"

"Rude, for one thing." Castiel's seemingly dismissive attitude irks her more.

Seeing where this could be going, Dean looks at Sammy silently and then at Lizzy, trying to communicate a plan. He pulls a knife from his boot slowly and Lizzy knows what he's up to when he slices his palm and heads very, very slowly for the doorway. She slinks over to Lou and hands Sammy over to his confused aunt before Lizzy sits into the chair in the corner unnoticed.

"Where have you been?" the less angered male angel wonders, the three angels wrapped up in their own discussions.

Castiel's demeanor shows his regret and guilt. "Oh, Inias. Hester, I know you want something… answers. I, I wish it could be that…. There are still many things I can teach you." He scrambles for answers. "I can offer, um, well, perspective. Here." He extends his index finger to Hester. "Pull my finger."

Hester stares at him for a moment, unsure of what has happened to Castiel. "You're insane."

"Insane isn't quite the word for it…" Castiel begins to explain.

"You have truly lost your mind," Hester denies his explanations. "Castiel… you let us down. You let us all down…."

"I never meant to do that," Castiel wants her to know. "My intentions were to help save Heaven, to give free will and freedom to you all."

"Free will?!" Hester appalls. "We didn't need free will! We needed leadership, the kind you promised!"

"Hey!" Everyone in the room turns to Dean as he's now standing in the doorway. He stares at Hester specifically, not liking her attitude one bit. "Heads up, Sunshine."

Slapping his hand down on the bloody sigil on the hallway wall, he banishes every angel in the room, including Castiel, in a brilliant flash of white light. The immediate silence that descends upon the room is comforting, proving their safety for now.

"All angels blown back to their corners," Dean says and nods at Lou. She's shocked but she's ok. She may not have seen that before but she's see enough to not be terribly surprised. "We got like three, four hours tops."

Lou huffs a laugh. "You gotta teach me that little parlor trick…."

"What's happening?!" Kevin cuts her off with a panicked scream. "What's happening?!"

"A whole lot," Dean admits, pulling a bandanna out of his back jeans pocket and wrapping his hand up. "Deep breath, kid."

"So, these Leviathans… these monsters are real. And angels with wings?" Kevin keeps asking, his mouth running nervously as he clutches to the duffle bag and tablet still.

"No. Uh... no wings," Sam explains barely.

"And no junk. Junkless," Dean takes a moment to poke fun at the angels while replacing his knife in his boot. "So, Kevin, you can, uh, read the chicken scratch on the God rock, huh?"

"Uh, I…." He's not sure of anything right now.

"That is back in one piece," Dean keeps talking, noticing the tablet is back together. "And you're saying that there's some sort of a 'How to punch Dick' recipe in there somewhere?"

"I-I don't know what you're saying," Kevin tells him, watching the man that just banished angels with blood wrap his injury crudely at best. He doesn't seem to notice the pain or worry about it all that much. "But it seems kind of like an 'in case of emergency' note." Dean nods. "What did they mean by prophet?"

No one speaks to answer this question. No one wants to.

"I don't want to be a prophet."

"No, you don't _at all_," Dean tells him truthfully as he walks to Lou. He looks right into Sammy's eyes with worry. "Hey buddy. You alright?"

"He's fine," Lou assures, slightly insulted that he'd have to ask. "I got him."

"I know you do," Dean lets her know as he keeps studying his boy. Sammy looks a little dazed, quiet and calmer than usual, but he's present and that's better than Dean could have hoped for. That sigil was untested on the poor little guy so it was a slight risk, one he was willing to take over the possibility of him getting actually hurt. "Guess your mom didn't give you enough angel mojo for that one to _really_ work on you, huh?" Dean smiles slightly, patting the little boy's cheek and watching as he eyes lazily follow his dad's movements. Good enough. Dean then looks to the room of people as he walks for Lizzy in the chair. "Alright, we'll go to Rufus' cabin."

"What about our place?" Lou suggests. "It's close and already warded."

"Not like Rufus' place," Dean tells them. "And those angels will be looking for us in town when they come back. Kid can do his book report in Whitefish."

"Who's Rufus?" Kevin asks, not ready to go with these people but getting the clue that he doesn't have much of a choice.

"An old friend," he answers while checking Lizzy's pulse at her neck. This isn't his first rodeo with this issue. It's just a precaution. He knows she's fine despite the sigil banishing her for a bit, making her a hollow shell for just the time being. He then waves his hand in front of her face. Nothing.

"What the hell is wrong with her!?" Lou panics when she sees the unresponsive, dead-eyed Lizzy sitting in the chair. She's completely gone.

"Eh, you know…" Dean says through a struggle as he pulls her over his shoulder and picks her up, her top half hanging down behind him. "Angel DNA or something. I'll explain it later."

"But she's…"

"Lizzy'll be fine, Lou," Dean assures her. "I wouldn't hurt her."

"Oh really?" she challenges quite meanly.

Dean just glances at her out of the corner of his eyes, anger fired up in his face, before heading for the door. She has no idea what he and Lizzy just went through, she has no clue how good they actually are once more, so he lets it be. "Let's go. Sam, make sure the honor student sticks with." Dean then marches out of the room with his zoned-out wife over his shoulder, smirking just slightly. Even if they just got spit right back out into the current hell they're living in, at least he knows his family is a unit.

Bring on the shit. Nothing can ruin this day for him now, not even angels.

* * *

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